


Hearts of Darkness (Revised)

by Megamonster



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Case Fic, Drinking & Talking, F/M, Flashbacks, Gay Male Character, Hunters, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Men of Letters Bunker, Minor Character Death, Plot, Reminiscing, Season/Series 09, Secrets, Violence, Werewolves, drugged, ghost friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megamonster/pseuds/Megamonster
Summary: Braelyn James, a girl forced into a situation which revolves around her line of work, no way of getting out. But maybe with the help of her friends, Sam and Dean, she will be freed.(Summaries, not my strong suit.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so, I went through my other version of this and picked through it to get rid of some unnecessary elements, hopefully this turns out better than the other one. As I continue to add in chapters, tags will be added. It looks bare at the moment, but once everything is put in place, that tag box should explode with key features of this story. And just as a warning I will put in here right away, there will be some non-con implemented, if that's not something you feel comfortable reading, then I wouldn't recommend reading this story when it comes to that point. Thanks again readers! ~Meg
> 
> Edit: I would like your guys' critics, comments are openly welcome here. I will not get offended if any of you give me your opinions. If there is something that is lacking or not enough, please feel free to let me know, and I will try my best. I'm still a new writer, I'm trying to learn techniques and other things to help me out because I want to write and create stories.

Screaming. Black and White flashes. Like a camera flash. The sound of bones cracking. Growling and snarling. More screaming and gun shots. Blood everywhere.  
Braelyn’s eyes shoot open and she’s breathing heavily. Checking her surroundings for any source of immediate danger, instantly calming down once figuring out she’s in a hospital room. The beeping of the heart monitor slowing down to normal rhythmic beeps as her heart gets back to normal. She reaches her right hand up to wipe the dampness from her face. Sweaty and warm. Drowsiness taking in effect after the panic induced. Damn these drugs.

Looking down she notices a sling cocooning her left arm. Perplexed and a bit dazed, she tries to think if what she dreamt actually happened. Everything felt real, so it had to have actually happened. It’s the only explanation to the slight tinge of pain in her shoulder. The medication was keeping the majority of the pain at bay, to which she is thankful for. Braelyn squints her eyes, staring down at the thin blanket, trying to jog up anything from last night. It feels like a dark cloud is covering each part of her brain, hiding the memories. Braelyn hears whispered yelling from outside the room and she turns to see a couple of guys, what could be considered arguing. She knows them, they can help her, she knew for sure that they were with her last night.

“Hey!” She yells with a break in her voice. Nothing. Blinking slowly she looks around the room for something to throw at the window. A pen, and conveniently on her right. Braelyn pelts the writing utensil at the window with any strength she could muster. A small noise echoed through the glass, causing the people to stare into the room. “Winchesters!” She shouts with more force behind it.

They give each other a look like, ‘we will finish this later’, before entering her room. Sam standing to her left and Dean on the right. They look rough, like they haven’t slept in maybe hours, or days. Eyes evidently creasing from the lack of sleep.

“How you doing?” Dean was the first to speak out of the three of them.

“M’fine, I guess." She lolls her head against the pillow, halfheartedly chuckling. "Could be better. But I’m drawing a massive blank on last night. Maybe getting hammered wasn’t the way to go with reuniting with you two.” She replies.

“You weren’t drunk, Brae. You were drugged.” Dean says and crosses his arms across his body.

She cocks a brow at him. “We were at the bar together and I definitely remember drinking, a lot.”

“Yea but you didn’t get that hammered last night, it was whatever one of the bar-goers slipped into your drink. We got up to tell you, but you chugged it straight down in one shot.”

“To be fair, that was the best mix the bartender made.”

“That’s not the point, Brae. Not even 10 minutes of us trying to tell you and pulling you to the exit. You told us you felt dizzy and couldn’t quite hear us and excused yourself to the bathroom and never came back out, 20 minutes you were gone.” Dean pauses and watches her carefully. He wasn't looking for any response judging from how shocked she seemed by this information, Dean digressed. “A girl at the bar said that she saw a suited man follow you into the bathroom and guide you out the back. We followed you and them just as one of the three guys tore your shoulder in an indescribable way, wailing and dropping face first into the alley.” Dean finishes.

“Wow, um, well.” She lowers her gaze from Dean to the thin, scratchy blanket draped over her legs, picking at the fabric while feeling sorry for what they had witnessed. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s what we do. We're just glad you're alright.” Sam tries comforting her.

Braelyn has known the boys for years, more so Sam than Dean. She had attended Stanford in '05. Just a freshman trying to find her way around campus when she bumped into the tall young adult. Explaining that she was looking for the advanced psychology department, coincidentally, he was going to the same class. They walked there together and he showed her different shortcuts and other ways to get to the other classes on time. Her classes jumped around all over the campus, great schedule planning. Sam and her instantly clicked, becoming friends from being complete and total strangers. Her heart said it was fate that they were meant to meet. Her heart then decided to jump ship of any kind of friendship Sam could offer, and developed an omega crush on him. Thinking, he’s a rather attractive guy, he must have someone to be with. And her suspicions were correct when he introduced her to Jess, Braelyn’s heart sank still. But being the good friend she was, said she was glad he found someone to be happy with. Nothing was different with them. She had been friends with him for a month, and his friends became her friends. Not long after, she had made some friends who didn’t know Sam or any of the others.

Everything was starting good for her, a lot of friends, her grades were B average for the first semester, she new she was going to like being here. On November 2nd, a total of 3 months after Braelyn had met the youngest Winchester, she was walking home, crammed out of her mind. She had a paper due on that Monday and was at the library. Silly her fell asleep at one of the cubicles in the back, a security guard had woken her up and sent her home. She hates walking home really late at night, but had no choice in the matter, so she took a shortcut to get back to the dorms, which cut past the apartment that Sam was renting. How convenient. As she was walking though, she saw a person walk into his building and a dark car drive by her. Braelyn could see the campus lights just a few miles ahead, and sighed with relief. But then a car stopped behind her and a car door was slammed, heavy foot falls hitting the asphalt. She turned to see someone rushing into the building. She stood there to see if she needed to call the police or something. But, it felt odd this night. In the quiet fall air, a deep male scream was heard and an orangish glow was protruding from the middle of the building.

Her eyes go wide with realization. That’s Sam and Jess’ apartment. She stood there in shock, unable to move, even well after the police and fire department showed up. Blinking. Finally taking in her surroundings as crowds of people were all around the burning building. She turned to the car that was a good few feet away, Sam and some other guy got in and drove past her again. She saw Sam’s face, dead and emotionless. Something definitely happened, and she was pretty sure that Jess had died in the fire.

Braelyn never saw him at school anymore after that, Brady and Zach told her that he was taking a roadtrip with his big brother to clear his head, they said he’d be back. Which was understandable. A year went and passed, and still no Sam. She had his number and asked him what was up, but never got so much as a coherent answer. They stayed in touch every now and again.

She never told him, but she’s a hunter, didn’t want him to think she was nuts for believing in monsters and such. Braelyn dropped out of college after a case back fired on her and was seriously injured. Fucking ghosts. She knew some other hunters and was really good friends with a bar owner, Ellen, Ash had helped her out on a couple things and so she usually came to them if they caught wind of anything. She called her to let her know that she was coming for a case file Ellen had waiting for her and when she arrived, Braelyn didn’t expect to see Sam and his brother sitting there. They were just as shocked as she was. Cat was out then.

“Thanks, Smam.”

“Smam?” Dean quirks a brow at her.

“It’s just a nickname I gave him back in college.”

“Wait, you knew Sammy back in college?” Dean asks. “How old are you?”

Braelyn shrugs with her good shoulder. “26, I know, I don’t look my age.”

“I didn't think you were that young.”

“I’m 4 years younger, shouldn’t be that hard to forget.”

“Whatever.” Dean says to end the little banter.

“So, how well is the case going for you guys?”

“Not very good. Not so much as any leads as to who is behind the killings.” She had heard about this case, but didn’t jump start it. Someone usually goes nuts once in a while, but never like this. Four girls in the past week have turned up in the woods with their hearts ripped out of their chests. The boys had questioned why she didn’t claim the case, but she didn’t give them a real answer, other than she was out from the life.

“But it’s for sure a werewolf?” Braelyn asks.

“Most definitely.” Sam answers.

“Right, right." Reassuring herself, pressing down the fear as it tried to rise back inside her. "Those guys that attacked me, they’re dead?” She asks them.

They hesitate a moment before answering in unison. “Yes.” Of course they are dead, the Winchester’s are hunters who are good at their job. Who would doubt them?

“Has the doctor talked to either of you yet?”

“Not yet, but the cop out there will be in to get a statement from you soon.” Sam says pointing out the window.

“Great.” Rolling her eyes.

“Hey, be glad we chased away the media reporters and journalists. You’re face is safe.” Dean says.

“Thanks. Just hope the statement won’t make it into the paper.”

“We told the cop you didn’t want to be in the public eye, he understood.” Sam says.

“Good.” Braelyn replies. Someone had knocked on the open door. Sam moves out of the way and in came the cop. “Oh dammit.” She mutters.

“Ms. James.” Officer Daniels says matter of factly.

“Jack.” She deadpans.

“Wait,” Dean smirks, “your name is Jack Daniels?”

“Yes, but oddly enough, I don’t drink.” Jack pulls out his little notebook. “Can I have you both step out of the room while I interview her.” It didn’t sound like a question.

“I would prefer to have them both here with me.”

“I will be questioning them separately after you, so I need them to step out.” He sternly.

“We’ll be back, Brae.” They leave her alone with the officer in the room, she doesn’t like being alone with Jack. There’s nothing really wrong with him, he just thinks he knows what’s best for her. Like a father. Jack was the one who helped find her when she was kidnapped back in the day, he switched departments and now keeps a close eye on her. It's always tense and awkward whenever he was in her presence. The air in the room was thick and for the most part silent. She looked anywhere but at Jack. He adjusts his stance, jingling keys and handcuffs on his belt was the end of the silence. A click of a pen and the sound of paper being leafed through to an empty page so he could begin writing. He clears his throat and scrawls something in his notebook.

“Ok, can you tell me anything that you remember from yesterday?”

Finally making herself look into his hard blue eyes. "I had off from work and decided to splurge on myself, so I went shopping at the mall. After a while I went around the surrounding stores, went to eat at a pizza place and dropped my bags off at my truck that I parked by the theater. I was going to check out one last store before heading home when I saw my friends cutting through the 400 Block. I caught up to them and we went to a bar to catch up.”

"Anything else happen that night?”

Sighing as she stared off into space for a little bit. “At one point in the evening, I got up and went to the counter to get another drink. A guy sitting on a stool was flirting with me, I could tell he was zonked, and he wasn’t taking no for an answer. I shoved him off when he grabbed my arm. Uhm, I turned back around to grab my drink, chugging it straight down. One of my friends spun me around and began yelling at me. I couldn’t quite understand him, my head was spinning and voices were sounding muffled. I excused myself to the bathroom and everything goes a bit blurry after.”

“That’s fine, do you remember anything else?”

“Uhm, one of the guys from the counter, not the one flirting with me, pulled my shoulder until it cracked and he kept going. My friends showed up as I dropped on the ground in that alley. Blacking out from the pain.”

“Was it just the one guy with you in the alley?” She stares off to think again. Everything still hazy. She presses her thumb and forefinger lightly over her closed eyes, rubbing them as she retracts any memory if she can.

“Maybe.” She gets out. “Probably 2 others. Wait, yea, there were two others with me and that guy.”

“Do you think you could describe what they looked like?”

“Uhm, all three were tall and wearing dark colored suits. I think they were all older than me. Two of them had dark hair the other silver. One wore glasses, he was the one that dislocated my shoulder. But I can’t make out any other features behind the fog.”

“That’s ok. I’m sure your friends will have something they could tell me.” Jack finishes and closes his notebook, stuffing it in his chest pocket. “If you remember or need anything else, don’t hesitate to call.” He hands her a card with the stations number and information on the front and his personal number on the back. “We’ll get them, don’t you worry.”

“Of course.” She looks at him a bit confused, why would they want to catch them if the boys told her they’re dead. He probably doesn’t know that they are. “Thanks Jack.”

“It’s Officer Daniels until I’m off the clock.”

“Sorry.”

“S’fine.” He heads for the door.

“See ya.” 

“Yep.” The door swings open and out he goes, she watches as he talks with the boys and they walk away. Probably to a private room or something, so the other noises don’t disrupt the interview. Other than the heart monitor and the constant bustling of nurses and phones ringing, she was left alone with her thoughts. Looking down at the card in her hands, having no need to call him for anything like this, she crumples the paper and tosses it in the tiny trash bin off to the side of her.

As she sat there contemplating her situation, it lead to all the people she had come to know in this line of work. Funny how the brain does that, switching topics at random points, sometimes in the middle of thought. She could make a damn calender from all the people that had been killed because of her. Maybe three or four separate issues of these hunters and dear friends, including some family. Braelyn doesn’t know how the boys have managed staying alive through all the crap they have to deal with. They probably lost a lot of people they considered family since they were little. Not to mention how they kept an education while doing this. She never asks about their past, it’s always better to stay in the now than dwell in what has been done. Soon, as it seems, she was sucked out of the inner thoughts by her doctor, another friend of hers. “Hey Ryan.”

“Braelyn, my favorite reoccurring patient. How are we feeling this morning?” He stands a foot from her bed, hands behind his back. “Any pain?”

“M’alright, not at the moment though. I’m under the best care of a brilliant physician.” She replies with a smile. "The drugs are finally wearing off, thank god."

“That’s good to hear.” He brings his right hand to the front with a folder. He sets it on her lap, opening it and pointing at the top sheet. “As you know, protocol, these are your care instructions. If you follow these, you should be good. You may need some assistance for the first week or so, just so you aren’t putting so much stress into doing a lot of the tasks around the house. You’ll catch on to doing pretty much everything with one hand until I see you back here in about two weeks for a follow up.”

“Alright.” She nods her head and flips through the pages. Fully aware of her condition, not the first dislocation of a joint.

“Do you have any questions?”

“Uhm, is this the only sling I should wear or am I supposed to have a different one for different purposes?”

“For right now, you’ll just wear the one you have on. Unless you somehow move your shoulder wrong on accident, that further dislocates the bone from the socket which would then prompt you to wear one with a strap around your waist.”

“Ok, and how long should I wear it for?”

“About a week. You should only take it off for bathing, changing clothes and at home exercises. Don’t do anything too extraneous for twelve-sixteen weeks. If everything goes well, and it should, you’ll heal up just fine. When you come for the follow up, I’ll set you up with a physical therapist to strengthen and get it working again.”

“Sweet.” She smiles. “So, what kind of drugs were in my system?”

“Luckily it wasn’t a fast fading drug and we were able to get a tox-screen done. What we found were your run of the mill GHB or commonly known as the date rape drug.” He replies.

“Huh, never heard of any GHB being so fast acting like that.”

“You never know with these drugs these days. They could have been home brewed and/or enhanced.” He says. “If you have anymore questions, feel free ask. A nurse will be in to discharge you in a bit.”

“Thanks again, Dr. Dravis” He nods his head and walks out of the room. Once again, she was left with only her inner bitch and conscience. Which wasn’t for very long, because the brothers came walking in. “Welcome back to my room, too bad I can’t greet you properly and offer you a drink.” She chuckles.

They smile right back, seeing that she's turning back into her normal self. “Yea, we can’t stay long, we’ve got an unsolved case to finish.” Dean says with his hands in his pockets. “That cop is a real hardass ain’t he?”

“Yea, Jack, can be that way. But that’s totally cool, I understand. Question.” She sits up a bit and crosses her legs.

“What?” They answer in unison.

“You guys staying in a motel?”

They turn to each other before one of them replies curiously. “We planned on it, but ran into you. Been here with you this whole time, never got a chance to go and rent a room.” Dean says.

Braelyn smiles wider, she could spend more time with her friends if they take up on her offer. “Don’t waste your pool hustling money, come stay with me. I have a couch and a spare bedroom in my apartment.”

“No, we wouldn’t dare burden you.” Sam says.

“I insist.” She says more firmly.

“Alright, jeez, all that beauty can hide the beast.” Dean says with a hint of playfulness.

“Damn straight.” She giggles. “Oh! A nurse will be in to let me out in a bit I guess. So, we can head over there together so you guys can change and head out again. I can also make you guys something to eat before you go.”

“Can you even cook with your chicken wing?” Dean quirks a brow.

“You’ve never seen my kitchen skills? I can make a mean bowl of cereal, single handedly.” Raising her right hand and wiggling her fingers. ”But seriously, breakfast made by me.”

“No don’t worry about feeding us, we’ll be fine.”

“Alright, fine." She slumps a little and something about mentioning her truck to Jack made her remember. "I almost forgot, before we go back to my place, I’m going to need to go and get my truck.” Braelyn says looking around for her purse. “Where are my things?”

“On this chair.” Dean says pointing at it.

“Can you hand me my purse please.” Dean reaches for the strap and swings it onto her lap. “Thanks.” She rifles through the bag for her phone. Once she has it in her hands, quickly checking to see if she had any notifications, nothing. Sighing with, what others might see as relief. Her small worry dissipated when a knock at the door made her tear her eyes away from her hand, a nurse smiled softly and made her way into the room.

“Ms. James, are you ready to be discharged?” She sounds new at her job, little nervous, faux confidence. The scrubs on her body look like it's their first wear, sleek and wrinkled where it was folded.

“If I deem fit, then yea.” Braelyn replies. The nurse walks closer to her and unhooks anything connected to her skin. The tape leaving just the smallest amount of residue on her skin, making it tacky. Where the IV was poking into her hand, she knew was going to leave a nasty blue and yellow bruise. The nurse then showed her how to take off and put on the sling on her own, without any help. She asked if she needed anything else, when she told her no, she walked back out where she came and left her with the boys once more. Braelyn offers out her hand to Dean so he could help her up. He slowly guides her out of the bed and she pats his upper arm in thanks, turning to grab her purse and papers, spinning the rest of the way behind her to the chair with her jacket and button up draped over the back. “Onward my loyal knights, to locate my trusty steed!” She shouts with her arm in the air. They laugh at her and off they went.

“Brae, you wanna sit up front, that way when we get to your truck Sam could drive it?” Dean asks.

“I guess.” She responds and digs into her purse. Braelyn saw them in there when she was searching for her phone, it's a fairly big purse. Tan pleather with plenty of pocket space in the front, a long strap that she could throw over her head so it laid diagonally on her chest. The inside was spacious enough to carry quite a bit, but apparently too spacious to find a simple lanyard with metal attached to it. “Dean, I can’t find my keys, can you look for them?”

“Sure.” He says taking the bag as soon as they enter the elevator. “For a person who doesn’t carry much in this, you sure have a big bag.” Dangling the metal in her face with the Catbug lanyard she’s currently using, and then giving them over to Sam.

“Never know what you’ll need.”

“This is an interesting lanyard.” She watches Sam as he inspects it. “What’s the design?”

“That’s Catbug, he’s mostly a cat with ladybug wings. He lives in two separate dimensions, able to jump back and forth between them, but is unable to control when he does. He’s like a child, he’s a cutie!” Braelyn smiles as he looks at her, even more confused then before. “It’s from a cartoon, nevermind.” Facing the hallway and she takes a breath in through her nose. The sound of Sam clearing his throat and seeing Dean in her peripheral reach for the button panel, was the last thing she paid any attention to. Her eyes caught a figure standing in the middle of the busy hallway ahead. But she could tell they were staring at her. She felt on edge as if someone was actually watching her, which made her skin crawl. The hairs on her neck standing up, and the feeling of being on high alert was causing her heart to race. She sucks in a breath and holds it in her lungs. She saw him smile, from where Braelyn was standing, he had big canines, and his nose bunched and wrinkled on the bridge. The doors slide shut finally, blocking her view of the man. Then the box they are standing in begins to move down.

The younger brother takes notice to his friend, and checks with Dean to see if he notices what's happening. “You alright?” Sam places a hand between her shoulder blades. She looks at him and lets out the breath she had been holding.

“Yea.” Chuckling halfheartedly. “Drugs must not have gotten out of my system yet. Thought I was hallucinating one of the guys from last night.” Swallowing her fear thickly in a big lump.

He let out a sigh of relief. “Good, thought maybe your shoulder was bothering you.”

“I mean, yea, but I’ll just ice it when I get home and take some painkillers.” She smiles at him for reassurance. They both face forward and wait for the ride to end. She’s not totally sure if the boys saw what she did, and is not going to ask either. For the last few floors, both Sam and Dean had their phones out and they were doing something. Probably checking in with friends, maybe looking to see if anymore bodies turned up in the case.

 Sam: _'You saw that too, right?'_

Dean:   _'Yup.'_

Steadily they make their way out to the Impala and Sam opens the passenger side for her. Dean started his car and drove back to the bar they were at last night. The whole ride Dean had his music on low, but he was still drumming along on his steering wheel. It was about a 10 minute drive from the hospital to the bar, Dean followed traffic and he turned into the parking lot. He parked in a empty spot and Braelyn got out confused. Walking around the vacant lot, hand in her hair, panic rising. She strides over to where she remembered leaving it.

“My truck was in this spot, wasn’t it?” Her breathing becoming ragged, almost hyper-ventilating. One of the boys grabs her arm to bring her back to the car.

“Calm down, it’ll be fine.” Dean says.

“Calm down. Calm down?!” She tore her arm out of his grasp. “Are you nuts? That truck is everything to me! My dad passed it down to me when he died.” Tears threatening to flood her vision. “It’s the only thing I have to remember him!" The truck her dad had in his will was a black 1987 Chevy Silverado. He bought it a year after Braelyn was born on impulse. He saw it sitting there, rusted up, missing some parts, and barely running. Which was odd for a new vehicle for it’s time. Her dad got it fixed up and he looked as good as new. Roaring to life and taking family road trips in that two door, barely able to fit the car seat, truck. He had put pieces of himself into that vehicle when trying to fix it up. When he passed, she had felt guilty for never accepting his apology, so she treasured this piece of her life. Now, however, that is missing, she feels like she’s losing her father all over again. The bar is in a decent part of Wausau, she didn’t think anyone would want to steal an old truck like that.

“Hey hey hey hey, it’s not the end of the world, it’s just a truck.” Dean says. Braelyn is appalled at what he just uttered from his own two lips.

“Dean, you’re one to talk. Remember what happened when Bela towed your car because she wanted to.” Sam chimes in. Dean’s face says what words can’t express.

“Right, sorry, do you remember the plate numbers?”

“Yea, kind of.”

“Kind of should work, let’s go to your place and let Sammy do his magic on his computer and figure out where it is.” He goes to grab her arm again, leading her to the passenger side. As soon as she sat down, her phone startles her as it rings.

“Jesus. Hello?” Trying to hide the fact that she’s a bit upset.

_“Braelyn.”_ It was her friend Chris. _“Just letting you know, I have your truck.”_

“Oh thank God!” If she could put a hand over her chest, she would. “I came back to the bar to get it, how’d you know it was here?”

_“What do you mean? You’re the one that texted me to pick it up.”_

“How could have I texted you, I was in the hospital last night.”

_“Wait! You serious? What happened?”_

“Long story, the shortened version, GHB and a dislocated shoulder.”

_“Holy shit. You ok?”_

“Yea, fine. I’m with some friends, mind if we swing by to come get him?”

_“Sure, I don’t have to be to work for another hour yet. Come on over.”_

“Alright, be there in a few.”

_“Kay.”_ The phone call ends, the boys are watching her cautiously.

“My friend has him. The funny thing is, he told me I texted him, which, I’ve been out cold and didn’t wake up until about an hour and a half ago. Did either of you send him anything using my phone?” Sam makes a face and shakes his head, turning his attention to his older brother.

“I didn’t even know your phone was with you.” Dean replies.

“Well, someone had to of.” They sat in the car in silence. Braelyn has a few suspicions, but she’s not going to share that info out loud. Dean turns his car on and moves the gear shift to back up and once more to drive forward out of the vacant lot.

“So where does-”

“Down the road three blocks, turn left and then make a right after another block. It’s a white one level house on the right.”

“Alright, was also asking for his name.” Dean says making his first turn.

“Chris Miller, 28, 5‘11“, Taurus.” She says while staring out the window.

“Ok, Chris, what was with the other stuff?” She sees Dean glance at her a couple times in her peripheral.

“What do you mean?” Braelyn turns her head, looking at him confused. “What, his dating profile?”

“Yea, that.”

She squints and furrows her brows. “Aren’t you, you know?” Sam snickers, trying to hide his burst of laughter, he’s smart enough to catch on to what she’s asking.

“Aren’t I what? Sam, the hell you laughing at?” Dean yells.

“Too straight to be straight?” He stomps on the brakes, just in front of Chris’ house.

“You askin’ if I’m gay?” She nods. “I ain’t Honey Nut Queerios.”

“Hmm, could of fooled me.” Sam’s clapping like a retard seal in the backseat.

“Shut the hell damn up Sam!” Dean points a death glare at his brother. “I’m completely, totally, one-hundred percent, straight. I chase tits not dicks.”

“You’d chase Cas’ dick in a heart beat.” Sam musters while panting.

“You know what Sam, fuck you.”

“Dean, that’s incest.” She retorts. “And also gay.”

“You, Sam, out of my car.” Dean says glaring. The tension in the tiny space not clearing up the longer they stay in there. Sam and Braelyn get out of the car and walk up to the front door, she turns to Sam before she knocks.

“I honest to God thought he was gay.”

“It’s ok, we get mistaken for a gay couple a lot, it’s nothing new unless it’s directed at him.” Nodding her head, she knocks on the door. It looks like it was repainted within the month. All the grooves of the large plank were evident with red paint filling in the ridges.

“Coming.” Chris’ voice carried through to them, a slight feminine cadence. Light footsteps were making their way towards the ones waiting outside. “Hey.” He says when the wood was swung open. His hair was gelled and shaped into a quiff, his work shirt freshly ironed, the smell of the body spray he used was passing around his form. Immediately turning his attention to the man standing next her. His tall nature filling up his growing pupils.

Braelyn smiles at her best friend, knowing what may come out of his mouth next, and so she spoke before he could. “Chris, this is Sam. Sam, Chris.”

“Come on in." Chris guides them into his house. Checking out Sam's ass when he passed the threshold. “So, this the guy?” Deliberately letting his eyes linger a little too long around his upper torso area.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Braelyn and Sam exchange confused looks with each other.

Chris shakes his head, ridding his mind of the x-rated images that appeared. “That text I told you about. Hang on.” He pulls his phone out and scrolls a bit. “Hey Chris, kinda got a little crazy with my alcohol and I’m hooking up with some really hot guy. I left my truck in the parking lot of _Henderson's Hideaway_ , spare’s in the glove compartment. Can you bring it to your house? Remind me in the morning to pick it up. Thanks love! xox”

“That sure sounds like I sent you that. But I think I would remember sending something like that, especially if I was hooking up with a random guy. And you know for a fact that I don’t do that.”

“Well I was half asleep when I received the message.” Chris sighs. “Sorry.”

“No it’s fine.” She tells him. “So, where’s my handsome devil?”

“In my garage, follow me!” He walks down a short hallway, beckoning them with his hands and into the garage. “There he be.” Gesturing the black stallion that is her truck.

“Wow, you and Dean seem to have similar tastes in vehicles or something.” Sam says, still holding onto the keys that were given to him since the elevator.

“This truck is as old as me. And the Impala is what, 12 years older than your brother?” Sam shrugs and goes to the drivers side door. “Thanks again Chris.”

“No problem girlie.” He moves to give her a hug. “I’ll call you later, I want the deats on this.”

“I now you will, you live for the drama.” She chuckles and walks over to her truck. Chris opens the garage door as Sam starts the engine. As soon as they’re out on the road, Dean follows behind while she tells Sam how to get to her apartment. The drive was silent, Sam wouldn’t let her pick a music station to listen to. It’s her truck, she has every right to listen to her music. She peeked out the side mirror and could see Dean jamming out to something hard core. How come Dean gets to play music and she can’t? She hates driving to the sound of rolling tires on asphalt. “The ride would go faster with some tunes.”

“We are almost there. Endure the silence a little more.” She stares at the side of his face, and without tearing her eyes away, pushing the volume button until heavy guitar and drums fill the quiet. Sam goes to turn it down, but she grabs his wrist, tightly. Stretching her right arm across her body to do the action.

“My truck. Keep your hands on the steering wheel.”

“God, you’re just like Dean.” Sam mutters and rips his arm out of her hand.

“If I was like you brother, I’d be guzzling beer and inhaling burgers like there was no tomorrow.” She retorts. Nothing else was said. Shortly Sam pulls into the driveway and they get out. He hands her the keys to go unlock the front door of her duplex.

“Thought you’d be in an actual apartment apartment. Not a duplex.” Dean says slinging his duffle over his shoulder and Sam’s in the other hand.

“I was, actually I was renting a house, but had to move because of reasons.” She replies. They walk in and look around her living room. The room was large enough to hold a fireplace opposite the stairs, a TV hooked into the wall above the mantel; a black 3 piece black leather sectional sofa was settled in the middle of the space. End tables tucked on the edge of the back corners of the couch held lamps, and coasters for drinks.

“Why did you move?” Sam asks dropping his bag on the cushions. “Weren’t you seeing that guy a few years back? Mat, right?”

“Again, reasons. And yea, he uh- he died.” She says walking to the kitchen and into the freezer for a gel ice pack and a towel. Making her way back to the boys, Dean’s made himself comfortable on her couch. Sam’s looking at some photos she had framed on the mantel of the fireplace. He was smiling fondly at the captured memory.

“He looked like a good guy. You must have been happy.” He places it back down and meets her eyes. A soft feeling to hers as she smiles at that picture. It was a picture of one of the Christmas‘ her mother allowed her to join in on. They were standing under the mistletoe as he pecks her on the cheek.

“Very. Shockingly enough, he was a hunter too. There aren’t too many of us around this area. I thought it was coincidence when we met.”

“Yea.” He sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Do you mind if I use your shower?”

“Not at all. Upstairs, turn right and it’s straight ahead, towels are in the pantry next to the sink.”

“Alright cool.” Sam grabs his bag and takes it up with him. She turns to Dean, who was trying not to fall asleep. Braelyn was watching his chest rise and fall as his lungs fill with air, light and easy breaths.

“Want me to put a fresh pot of coffee on for you?” Pointing towards the kitchen.

Her voice jolted him straight back to consciousness. Dean cleared his throat, blinking a few times before speaking. “Nah. I can get it, you rest.” He stands and guides her to sit in the recliner that sat in the corner by the kitchen entryway. “And ice your shoulder.”

“Yea yea yea.” She lightly places the wrapped ice pack over her shoulder and relaxes into the chair, nodding off a bit. Braelyn startled awake maybe a few minutes later to Dean handing her a mug with brown liquid in it. “Thanks.” She mumbles and takes a sip. Sam came down in his suit, tie loose and hanging around his neck. She whistles at him and he just smiles, standing in front of the mirror on the wall below the stair railing to tighten his tie.

“My turn.” Dean sets his mug down on one of the coasters and dashes up to the bathroom.

Braelyn sits up more, eyeing up the backside of the gentleman dressing up for his fake job. Really taking in how tall he's gotten, the strong muscular shoulders stretching the suit jacket nicely, form fitting to his upper back. Tracing down the seam to the ass just barely visible underneath the hem. Who knows how long she was staring at him for when he turned around. She takes another sip from the mug. “You know, for not getting enough sleep last night, you guys surprisingly haven’t passed out yet.” She says.

“If you’ve been doing this job for as long as we have, sleep has become less of a priority.” Sam shrugs.

Braelyn huffs a breath with a small smile. “I became a hunter when my old love interests father was possessed by a demon. I was in Italy at the time, someone from the Vatican came and exorcized him. Since 2004 I wanna say.”

“Try since the 90‘s.”

“This isn’t a competition on who got their lives turned upside down first.” Braelyn chuckles.

“Oh well in that case, since 1983“ He smiles.

“Yea, and either way, you’d win.”

“Sammy, can you bring my bag up here?” Dean shouts.

“Yea.” He responds back. Sam takes the bag by the front door, taking the steps two at a time. Braelyn could hear the muffled talking, and then silence. _"Shut up."_   Dean's laughter reverberated down the stairs when Sam had returned. Dean eventually comes back down, dressed in pretty much the same thing as his brother, grabbing the mug to finish his coffee. She cat calls him with his sharp dressed attire and he winks at her. A shiver quickly ran up her spine, a possible blush creeping and dusting on her face.

“Alright, let’s go Sam.” Dean says.

“Kay, see you later.” Sam says following his brother out.

“Later.” She calls after them.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours go by and Braelyn’s bored out of her mind. The boys told her that they might have a lead and will tell her more when they get back. She just hopes that the lead doesn’t tip her off. Because that would cause for a long explanation and she doesn’t feel like doing that.  
She was up in her bathroom brushing her teeth, thinking about how she was going to keep the boys as clueless as possible, when she heard a noise coming from downstairs. The boys were all the way in Weston, and Braelyn lives in the northern part of Wausau. It’s a 15 minute drive from there to here, and they had just called, so they can’t be back so soon. She spits out the toothpaste, rinsing her brush and mouth. Cautiously making her way down the carpeted steps. Halfway down, she hears the distinct clink of a bottle cap hitting a surface. Quick steps and barely walking into the kitchen did she notice men, not Sam or Dean, in her apartment. She recognized the ones on the couch and stormed into the kitchen; and was greeted with the relaxed form of her current problem.

“Sabastien.” He was tall, jet black hair gelled with short spikes, and deceiving silver grey eyes. Any girl would fawn over him, only if they knew that he was a sociopathic psychopath.

“Hello my darling.” He toasts his bottle at her and takes a sip, grinning as he does so, leaning against her island.

“What the hell do you want?”

“Came to check on my girl.”

“I am not, your girl.”

“Honey, please. I own you, I have the contract to prove. So therefore, you are mine.”

“I had no say in the matter! You don’t own me!” She clenches her fist at her side. “And since you’re on my turf, I’m going to end you.”

“But you won’t.” He smirks, setting the bottle down on the counter. “Because all I have to do is say the word.” Tilting his head to seem innocent, also to keep her eyes on his. He swaggers towards her, reaching out and grabbing her upper arms and pinning her up against the wall by the door. Braelyn cowers as much as she can, shutting her eyes and holding her breath. “Sabastien, don't please.” She begs as she feels him crowd her even more. He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and traces her jawline down to her chin. Tilting her face up. Sniffing her face and hair, pulling as much of her natural scent as he can. Smelling the fear radiating off of her. “You look so cute like this.” She can feel his breath against her lips as he speaks. “So vulnerable, weak.” He plants his mouth on hers. Very determined lips press hard against the resistance. Braelyn put her good hand on his chest to push him off. Sabastien wraps an arm around her waist, to hold her tightly. The hand moving from his chest up and over his adam’s apple, trying to cut off his airflow. He growls, deep and long, the vibrations felt all through her hand, he grabs her wrist and pins it to the wall beside her head. Rendering her useless. He’s spread his legs to box in hers, both bodies pressed up tight together. He pulls away with a satisfied smirk on his face. Tears flowing down Braelyn’s cheeks. “So, what’s the plan with those male hunters?” He asks caressing her face tenderly, which makes her breath hitch and she jerks her head away.

She sniffles and stutters. “K-keep’em off your trail.”

“And how are you going to do that?” He tilts his head to the side.

“By keeping the focus on Derik.”

“Good girl.” He pats her cheek. “I knew I kept you around for a reason.”

“Can you let me go, I have to ice my shoulder.” Meeting the devious silver.

“You wouldn’t’ve gotten that if you’d’ve just came back to me.”

“I don’t know what really happened last night, so, not my fault.” She quips.

“That potion must have been pretty good if you don’t remember much, going to have to tip the witch extra the next time she comes around." Smiling proudly at himself.

“Why not just use her for your dirty work, I’m sure the red head bitch would love to work for an in-bred prick like you.” Immediately widening her eyes at what she just said to him. She watches his eyes narrow and jaw clenching hard as he breathes heavily through his nose.

He grips her face tightly, dropping her arm from the wall. “Watch, your attitude.” She kept her mouth shut, saying something else to an already pissed off werewolf who has homicidal tendencies was definitely not an option. She blinks away more tears as his hand is relentlessly pressure gripping her jaw. He pushes off and away from her, grabbing his beer once again. Watching as Braelyn doesn’t move where he left her. Sometimes she freezes after what he does with her. He thinks it’s weakening her, she’s trying to keep herself sane and grounded. At that moment she comes back to reality when the front door opens and Dean stops talking mid sentence.

“Brae we’re-” She wipes her face and moves from the wall, meeting them in the living room.

“Hey guys.” She smiles.

“What’s with the Jehovah’s Witnesses?” Dean says pointing at the suited men on her couch.

“They’re my bodyguards.” The voice carried from the kitchen and into the living room. A hand coming to rest on her shoulder, Braelyn stares at it with a slight scowl. “Gentlemen.” Smiling at the brothers.

“Sam, Dean, this is Sabastien. He’s a friend, a sponsor.” Meeting the brother‘s eyes then averting them.

“Sponsor?” Sam questions.

“He helps me out when I’m low on money to pay my bills and such.”

“So, he just gives you money?” Dean asks.

“Yes, whenever she needs it. I don’t ask for anything in return, I’m very charitable that way.” Braelyn’s face ticks a bit at his response. She wants to close in on herself, but that would cause for an explanation. “But I should be on my way. Can’t run a company while away from the business. I’ll see you later dear.” He pats the back of her head, motioning for the men to stand and they exit out the front door. Braelyn spaces out looking at the floor for a bit, Dean snapping her out of her head.

“Hey, you ok?”

“Yea, m’fine.” She walks back into the kitchen and dumps his beer into the sink. “So what’s the lead you have?” She shouts as she rinses the sink of the brewed liquid.

“Not so much as a lead, but it‘s something. One of the vics friends gave us the napkin the guy wrote his phone number on. Figured we could track it and see who this guy is.” Braelyn turns around.

“Now?” She asks.

“Yea now.” Sam says. “We need to close this case.”

“I could do it for you.” She says walking around her island and taking the files and his laptop from his hands. “You guys rest for a bit. No sleep for almost 36 hours isn’t healthy. One of you can sleep in my bed and the other in the guest room.” They look dumbfounded and a bit shocked. But quickly understood that running low on sleep isn‘t going to help this case any.

“After you said sleep, the feeling hit me, I could use a bit of shut eye.” Dean says.

“Go on. I’ll research and it should be ready when you wake up.”

“Alright.” They both say and leave the kitchen, their footsteps pounding on the carpet.

 

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

 

Braelyn had been “working” for the last 2 hours. She watched TV for like an hour of that and then actually started the research. The number written by the unsub is owned by a guy name Derik Hall. To which, Braelyn already knew that. She scribbled down on a notebook she keeps in the kitchen and continued looking over the victims to give the boys some solid evidence. The last thing she needs is Dean to be disappointed in her for not doing what she said she would. Opening the two files with the 4 vics.

“Alright, victims all 24-30, brunette hair and brown eyes. Derik you must really have a type, huh.” She says. It also puts her under the category, age preference and hair color. “Sabastien’s not going to like this.” She mutters to herself. Since when did she care about what he thought anyway.

“Right, thanks Kev.” Dean comes walking back into the kitchen, sounding groggy, probably trying to wake up yet. He sits down at the table next to Braelyn.

“What’s up?”

“Well, our prophet friend got back to me on some of the odd things happening.” He takes the notebook from her to look over her work. “It’s not good news though. Is this the phone number guy?” Braelyn had printed a small photo out for them of Derik.

“Yes, I’ve seen him around town here, but what’s the bad news?” Her heart pounding in her chest.

“Over the past year a total of 15 girls have mysteriously disappeared in or around the area, and were found with their hearts torn out.”

“I think I remember hearing something like that when Mat and I first moved here.”

“How long have you lived here?”

“A-about a year.” She says quietly.

“Why did you answer so shyly? It’s like you’re guilty about something.”

“I dunno, you might suspect me of doing something.”

“Why would I need to do that? You didn’t kill these girls. And you’re not a werewolf.”

“You don’t know that, I could be like Garth.”

“Wait wait wait, how do you know Garth?”

“Are you kidding me, who doesn’t know Garth?”

“True.” He nods his head. Silence. "So, if you knew Garth, were you one of his special ladies?"

Braelyn chuckles, "God no. He may have been a ladies man, sure, but no. I was with Mat when I met him." Dean's jaw clenches ever so slightly at the mention of the deceased ex. The room falling silent again. “Sam still asleep?” Braelyn asks.

“Yea, I went to wake him up but he wouldn’t budge, nuzzled his face deeper into the pillow.”

“I thought I was going to have to fight both of you to get some sleep.”

“Yea, I’d like to see you try.” Dean chuckles.

“Winchester, is that a challenge I hear? You know what, once my shoulder is healed, we wrestle at high noon!”

“You’re on.” Dean grins. “But for now, let’s focus on the case. You got anymore beer?”

“Yea, I gotchu!” Braelyn gets up and heads to her fridge. She stops and looks at the ceiling after a loud thud is heard and spastic thumping can be heard heading for the stairs.

“Guys!” Sam shouts. Louder thuds and cussing can be heard from the front of the house. “Fuck, shit, dammit! Ow, son of a fuck!” He comes dashing into the room. “So get this!!” Panting and wincing.

“Jesus Christ Sam! Are you ok?!” Braelyn asks with her beer bottle filled hand over her chest. “Did you just fall down my stairs? How are you alive?”

“Yea, I dunno don’t worry about it.” He half limps to his computer and pulls up something on the screen. “The Wausau PD just sent me security footage of the latest victim. See.” Pressing play, it’s a blurry image, but enough to make out faces. There’s Brandi Fischer going into the park for an evening jog, then it cuts to an hour later, she’s sprinting towards a rangers station but trips as a guy pounces on her body. Claws and all tearing into her squirming body for her heart and scarfing it straight down in what looked like 2 bites. A ranger appears to have come out of the building with a gun and the guy runs off.

“Luckily there wasn’t any sound.” She grimaces at the screen of Brandi’s lifeless body in pooling blood.

“Got that right.” Sam says.

“Wait.” Dean sits up right in his chair. Reversing the tape a bit to the werewolf, slowing it down frame by frame until he got a clear enough shot of his face. Definitely Derik.

“You see something?” Sam asks. Dean stops the tape and zooms in.

“Yea, it’s this guy.” He points to the picture of Derik. “So we caught the asshole killing girls who turned him down.” A sound went off and Dean looks at his phone. “Kev finally sent over those other files.” He scrolls through each one. “Well that’s interesting.”

“What?” Sam asks.

“All these girls, the other 11, are brunette, brown eyes and 24-30.”

“Not a single blond or red head?”

“Nope.” Dean replies. “Brae, you said you’ve seen this guy around, has he talked to you, tried asking you out on dates or something?” Dean turns his focus back on her.

“Yes, Mat and I were at a bar the first night into town, just trying to loosen up from hauling boxes into the house we were renting. He came up and started flirting with me, but I shrugged him off and he almost forced himself on me, Mat interjected, we left the bar and headed home.”

“So, you wouldn‘t know him very well, I take it?” Dean asks.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Brae, if that was almost a year ago, how were you able to use this number to figure out who it was?” Sam asks curiously.

“What?” She responds, her eyes widening.

“I looked it up before I fell asleep, a name popped up but when I looked for that name it was non existent, how were you able to do it? You have a picture of the guy, with his last known address and workplace.”

“I recognized the number.”

“If he was forcing himself on you, I don‘t think you‘d want to remember his number.”

“Hacking software.” Sounded more like a question of uncertainty.

“Quit the charade!” Sam demanded.

“Fine!” She slams the beer bottles still in her hand onto the table. “Derik Hall, my very own stalker werewolf. If you must know, he was the first case when Mat and I arrived into town with the moving truck. Cattle and pigs were being brutally slaughtered and thought we should at least check it out.” She lets out a hard breath and continues. “Mat and I found him amongst several deceased piglets and feeding on the mama pig’s heart.” ‘Tell them the partial truth, they‘ll quit asking how I got his number.‘ She thought.

“If you knew he was a werewolf, why didn’t you kill him?” Dean raises his voice.

“I couldn’t kill him if he was trying to fight the urges to eat human hearts. Mat wanted me to end his life, because there was only so much time until it happened. When Derik heard that, while talking not so quietly, he disappeared into the woods. Mat and I separated to try and find him, Mat had found Derik and he was killed that night. I only found Mat, lying on the soft ground spewing blood from his neck and stomach.”

“Did you go after Derik?”

“He went into hiding, I couldn’t track him.” She pauses again. “He wasn’t always like that. When I found him next to the dead pig, he confessed he was forced into that life. I took pity on him. After everything, I saw him around the stores I shop at frequently, sometimes appearing in my backyard or showing up while I’m at work alone.”

“Brae.” They both say her name with a sigh.

“That’s why he’s been stalking you.” Dean says.

“What are you guys talking about?” Braelyn questions them.

“He’s imprinted on you.” Sam says.

“I’ve never heard of werewolves actually imprinting in real life, only in the Twilight books.”

“It’s in the old lore books dad and Bobby had us read.” Sam says. “It’s not uncommon.”

“So what are we going to do?” She asks them. “Use me as bait?”

“That’s way too risky.” Dean says.

“It’s probably the only way of finding him.” She says to him. “So, I want to be used for bait.” She demands.

“God, you’re so stubborn.”

“I seriously don’t think you should be out in the field with how you are now.” Sam says. She sighs and slumps down into a chair. Thinking about it without them poking and prodding into her business over the past year, the cloud of stress clears, it probably isn’t a good idea. Derik could possibly screw her up more.

“How else are you going to get him to come out?” She asks.

“Well, we’ll track him and see where he ends up.” Dean says.

“You guys have fun doing that.” Attempting to open her beer with one hand. “Someone open this for me, please.” Dean takes it from her and twists the cap, tossing it on the cluttered surface of her table. “Thanks.” She takes a sip and sets back down.

“But it shouldn’t be that hard to track a 6 foot werewolf preying on brunette chicks like you.”

“Like I said, have fun with that.” Taking another pull from her bottle.

“Let’s see, almost 6:30, Sam track this number and see where he’s at.” Dean gives Sam the notebook with the number on it.

“Alright.” Sam scoots his laptop to the empty spot on the table and sits down.

“Brae-” Dean was cut off to frantic knocking on her front door. She slowly makes her way into the living room, to a table by the door that has a revolver with silver bullets in it.

“Braelyn! I know you’re home!” It was Chris. She opens the door and he rushes his way in, closing the drapes and locking the front door. Braelyn shoves the revolver into her sling to hide it from him.

“Chris, what’s wrong?”

“Jenna has lost her fucking mind!” He says and steps in front of her. “I watched her murder a guest from the hotel. Straight up stabbing the poor guy.”

“Ok ok ok, sit down, tell me everything you can.” Braelyn tries to calm him, guiding the both of them to sit on the couch.

“Well, I was taking out the trash from the party room, going out the back door to the dumpster where I saw her at the edge of the trees. She turns my way, face full of blood with something in her hand, after I drop the bag of trash. I really think we need to have psych evaluations on everyone that works there or whatever, cause she’s insane!”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“Because what I saw her doing, freaked me the fuck out!”

“Like what?” Dean asked when both he and Sam walked into the living room.

“When she turned to me, she snarled and pieces of whatever she was eating were in her teeth. It was disgusting! Then I really noticed that the poor guys chest was open, and realized she was eating a heart.”

“We have two werewolves in this town, great.” Dean mutters, but Chris heard him.

“Werewolves?” Chris looks at him like he’s nuts. “They-”

“Yes they do.” Sam interrupts.

Chris doesn’t lose eye contact with either man and leans in to the side to whisper something to Braelyn. “Where did you find these guys? The looney bin?”

“They’re being serious, Chris.” She says to him.

“You believe them?” A clear look of disbelief.

“Yes. But they’re running out of time, one’s going to have to go after Jenna, and the other to Derik.”

“I’ll take psycho bitch.” Dean says.

“Guess that leaves me with creepy stalker.” Sam says.

“Sam, I’ll let you use my truck, just be careful with him.”

“Yep, definitely Dean.” He mutters walking back into the kitchen.

“Chris, did Jenna chase after you?” She rests her only hand on his knee.

“I’m not so sure.”

“Because if she did, she would have captured your scent and would have followed you. Most likely to kill you since you witnessed what she was doing.” He doesn’t meet her gaze. “Are you positive she didn’t chase you to your car?”

“Well, I mean, I did hear footsteps coming after me, but I was too busy in my car driving away to look and see who it was.”

“Yea, then she’s got your scent.” Dean says walking to the front door to look out the tiny window. “Which isn’t a good thing.”

“Did Sam leave?” Braelyn asks.

“Yea. And I dunno if she’s outside waiting, I need to get to my trunk for silver bullets.”

“No need.” She gets up and both men follow her to a big 2 door closet in the kitchen. Opening one door she looks around on a shelf and hands Dean a magazine filled with silver bullets. “This should fit in your colt, right?”

“It should, don’t you have the same kind of guns?” Dean asks.

“I have a type of colt.”

“Then yea, it should.” Dean inspects it and replaces the magazine already in his gun. Slid right in, fitting like a glove. He cocks his gun to rid the bullet in the chamber and replace it with a silver one. “Locked and loaded.” Chris, who was standing in complete shock at the discovery of her weaponry closet, gaping his mouth like a fish.

“What Chris?”

“Ok, you’re nuts too.”

“I may be nuts, but I have saved lives with these weapons.”

“Yea, ok.” He scoffs.

“Look. You can decide after we kill Jenna if you still wanna be my friend. Right now, your life is in our hands and I don’t want to watch anymore of my friends die.” Braelyn walks past them to dead bolt the back door.

“It’s better to not question it.” I hear Dean say to Chris.

“I’m gonna check the windows upstairs, I’ll be quick.” She says heading for the stairs.

“You shouldn’t go up alone.” Dean says following her as she plants a foot on a step. Chris reluctantly standing behind him.

“I’ve got it covered.” She pulls out her revolver and shows him the bullets inside. “It’ll be fine.” She runs up and checks that all the windows were locked, every closet and underneath beds had no one hiding in/under them. A quick inspection like she thought. She heads back down, “All clear.” Empty living room. “Dean?” Both of the guys were not in the room anymore. “You guys better not be hiding just to scare me.” The sliding door between the living room and the kitchen was closed. “Come on this isn’t funny.” The door begins to open, and in came Dean with his hands in the air.

“Sorry Brae, not this time.” He moves to the side to reveal Jenna pointing a gun at him. Braelyn brings up her gun, pulling back the hammer to get her shot ready.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast. You’ve probably guessed by now that I’m a werewolf, and you both know I have faster reflexes.”

“We only found that out because Chris saw you eating a person’s heart.”

“Oh, don’t worry, he’s next on my menu.” Braelyn furrows her brows and looks to Dean who had a sorrowful look in his green eyes. Her face turning from confusion to dejection to pissed the fuck off. She takes a step forward. “Any closer and I shoot him and spare you to live with the guilt.” Jenna cocks her gun. “Don’t think I won’t do it.” She grits.

“Oh, I know you will. The thing is, you shoot him, I take my shot, you drop and I get his angel friend to bring him back.” Braelyn smirks at Jenna.

“Pssh, no one has befriended an angel to extort them of their powers before.”

“We actually-” Dean started but Jenna hit him in the back of the head with the gun.

“Shut up you cock gobbling demon hunter!” Dean’s jaw drops in offense as he rubs the back of his head.

“Don’t you call him that!”

“Sweetie, I jus-” Braelyn shoots the shoulder of the arm Jenna was holding the gun. She growls and her yellow eyes protrude, teeth bared with a snarl. Dean begins hitting her and Braelyn gets her next shot lined up. He kicks her and she hit her back against the wall and dropped to the floor. She looks up to Braelyn as the bullet pierced through her stomach. Blood pooling from the wound, up and out her mouth. Slowly, Jenna began to lose her werewolf abilities and looked as normal as she could. More blood spewing from her mouth as she coughed and slumped against the wall. Braelyn pulled the hammer back one more time and shot her in the heart for good measure. Jenna was no longer moving.

“Don‘t call me sweetie.”

“Took you long enough.” Dean says.

“Oh whatever, you totally could have taken her down. I was stalling to make an unpredictable shot to distract her.”

“So.” Dean retorts. Braelyn sighs.

“Where’s Chris?” The dejected look returning as she thought of her best friend. “Is he ok?” The man that was standing in front of her said nothing as he stared at her. She runs into the kitchen and covers her mouth at the sight. Chris lay on the floor with something sticking out of his neck, most likely a bone, head laying at a weird angle.

“Jenna must have been in the house already when you went to lock the back door, we heard a noise in the kitchen after you went upstairs. Both doors to the closet were open, I had my gun ready with Chris glued to my back. She surprised us and snapped his neck, she subdued me until you came down.” Tears were forming and already flowing down Braelyn’s cheeks. A few sniffles in the thick, silent air, shoulders shaking with the trying to be quiet sobs wrecking through her body. Dean caught her as she fell to the ground, carefully wrapping her in his arms.

“I’m tired of all my closest friends dying because of me!” She screamed out. Dean cradles the back of her head with one of his hands, soothing her as she sobbed loudly.

“Welcome to the hunter’s life.” Is all Dean said while they knelt on the ground.

Sirens were blaring in the distance, the neighbors next door must have called the police. Sam had returned just in time to the cops and ambulances showing up. Dean let them in to take the bodies down to the hospital’s morgue and let their families know. The police began interviewing Dean and Braelyn. Lying about certain things to keep the reality aspect.

They had gotten what they needed, bodies cleared, evidence taken, floors and walls cleaned up; leaving the three of them in the silent apartment.

“I need to go lie down.” Braelyn says sniffling, heading up the stairs.

“See you in the morning.” Sam says. She doesn’t reply to them, sulking her way to her bedroom. She reached out for the door handle when she heard voices talking. _“We have a problem.”_ Braelyn looks down at the baseboard where a vent was, it was like having her very own intercom system in her house. The words weren’t clear, but she could make them out enough. She slowly knelt in front of the vent and leaned down till her ear was nearly to the metal.

 _“What do you mean?”_ Dean asks.

_“Before I put Derik out of his misery, he told me something important. He was turned a few days after Braelyn moved into town.”_

_“That’s not good.”_ There is a pause, and Braelyn really presses her ear to the metal grate. _“While all these uniforms were walking around here, I got another text from Kevin, more files of women. 3 more brunettes, all were 24 and were found in different jurisdictions. Not even close to being in Wausau.”_

_“How close were they murdered?”_

_“Not even. One was murdered 5 years ago, the next a year an a half later then 3 years after that.”_

_“So the recent murdered girls happened just after Braelyn got here. Then those three that you found out about can’t be Derik, so it was right for us to take him out then. And Braelyn did mention that he was forced into this?”_

_“Yea."_

_“He had mentioned that some guy had turned him, only showing him a picture of the girl he wanted and let him go.”_

_“I have a thought, and you aren’t going to like it, but what if something else, something bigger, is going on here. I think we should bring her back with us tomorrow. For protection.”_

_“Couldn’t hurt.”_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is implied/referenced self harm, as in cutting, and implied suicide. It's non descriptive, but if it bothers you, then I would suggest reading carefully or not at all.

Braelyn awoke to pain in her shoulder. Looking down she noticed she forgot to support her arm with a pillow. Whimpering every time she took in a breath. Slowly sitting up and clutching her elbow in the sling to make sure not to move it any further. Tears once again flooding her vision. Other than supporting her arm last night, the adrenaline and stress could also be a factor. Each throb sending searing pain throughout her arm, making it a bit difficult to walk out of her room. She eventually made it into the bathroom, rifling through the medicine cabinet for the Vicodin. She uncaps the bottle and downs two pills. She turns the sink on to run a washcloth under hot water, wringing it out and draping it over the ball of her shoulder. Braelyn sighs with relief as she leans against the edge of the sink. The heat resonating from the fabric, seeping through her skin to the aching muscles crying out at her. She closes her eyes as she faces the ceiling.

“Hey.” A soft male voice brings her back to reality, spooking her a bit.

“Oh, hey. Did I wake you?”

“Nah, been up for a while. Heard footsteps and sniffling, figured it was you and thought I’d come check.”

“I’m fine, just my shoulder. Forgot to support it before I got in bed.”

He furrows his brows in sympathy. “Sorry, wish there was something I could do to help you.”

Braelyn smiles at his caring nature. “Nah, just took some painkillers, I’ll be alright.” She throws the washcloth in the overflowing hamper by the tub, she’ll have to do laundry at some point. _'When was the last time I did laundry?'_ She thought as silence fell over the both of them. The occasional drip from the faucet echoing off the porcelain.

Dean sighed out of his nose, “How you doing?”

“Dean, I just told you-”

“You know what else I had meant.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, patiently waiting for her to answer. Taking a minute to think what else he had meant, her face slackens and she shrugs with her good shoulder.

“Should have known it was going to happen at one point or another. You can’t keep friends in this line of work.” She keeps her gaze locked with the floor. Not wanting to see the sympathy in his eyes. She was basically a sister to them, she didn't need them, especially Dean to tell her how this life works.

“That’s why I try not to make friends, they all just die.” _'And there it is.'_

“Then what am I to you if not a friend?”

“I said I try not to, emphasis on try; you, Charlie, Cas, Kev, y’all are my friends.” Dean goes for a small grin. She smiles back at him and stares at the wall in front of her.

“What time is it?”

“A little after 5.”

“I could just say happy hour starts somewhere.” She gets off the edge of the sink and goes to get past the older Winchester.

“Hey, I’m all for that, but, you said you just took Vicodin.” He says putting his hands out in front.

“And that’s stopped you boys before?” She quirks a brow.

“Touché. But I’m not allowing you to do that.”

Braelyn rolls her eyes. “Fine.” Letting out a sigh and placing a hand on her hip.

“C’mon, don’t be like that. I’ll whip us up something for breakfast, how does that sound?” He grasps her forearm and leads her down to the kitchen.

“That includes your brother, right?”

“If he ever gets his ass outta bed.” Dean chuckles and begins destroying her kitchen. Egg shells and pancake batter litter her counter top, milk left uncapped by the fridge, and a never ending sizzling sound coming from the stove.

“Just so you know, you’re cleaning this up.” He sets a plate down in front of her, a short stack of pancakes, scrambled eggs and some bacon decorate the dish.

He winks at Braelyn. “Don’t worry, I plan on it.” A blush creeping on her face while she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. As she’s pouring maple syrup on the pancakes Sam comes walking in yawning.

“Can you guys keep it down?” He sits next to Braelyn, taking a strip of bacon from his plate once it was placed in front of him.

“Would you like some coffee with that attitude?” Dean asks his brother sarcastically.

“Yes.” Sam just stares at Dean.

“Jesus, do you always go for that natural feral look?” Dean snickers at the state of Sam's hair.

“Dean, it’s too early for jokes.” Braelyn says for Sam.

“Is it early?” Dean walks over to the window above the sink, pointing out it. “Is that why the big ball of fire is in the sky at this time?” Sam glares as he munches on his breakfast.

“Knock it off, both of you.” They were in her house for fuck's sake, if she's gotta act like a mother, then so be it.

The eldest sits at the table without another word with the other two and they eat in peace. It's a comfortable silence, the quietness that she usually deals with on a daily, but it feels slightly different with other people in her home. The only sounds that were present in the space were Dean snarfing down his own created dish, Sam sipping his caffeinated beverage and forks scraping on the glass plates of all three. Breakfast was good, Braelyn had to hand it to Dean.

The silence was short lived, however. “So, Brae, since you are going to be out of work a while, Sam and I were thinking you should take a vacation, go to the coast, fly over seas or come stay with us.” Dean says after finishing his plate.

“Why would I need a vacation?” She asks wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“Thought you could use a change in scenery.” Sam adds.

Her face quirks a bit and she settles against the back of her chair, "Why on earth would I need a change of scenery all of a sudden? Is it to help me cope with losing Chris?"

"In a way, yea." Dean goes for convincing.

“Should I question your motives?”

“No.” They answer in unison, each sharing a similar smile.

“You guys are being really vague about this, I dunno, I think I should just stay here.”

“No no no, you’ll have loads of fun with us. You’ll get to meet Kevin and finally get to meet Castiel. He could probably fix that up for you as well.” Sam says gesturing her injury.

“I mean, I guess.”

“Perfect.” Dean claps his hands together as he stands from the table. “Go pack, we leave in 15.” He begins cleaning up her kitchen. Braelyn gets up and walks towards the stairs, she sees Sam following her. When she turned to go into her room, she still felt him right behind her.

“Would you like any help with packing?” He asks.

“Is that why you’re following me?” She chuckles and stares up at him. Really disliking the height difference, but at the same time, he could wrap her up and take away all her problems with just one embrace. Braelyn mentally shook away all the thoughts about the Paul Bunyan standing in front of her.

“Yea.” He brings a hand to the back of his head and shakes his hair.

“Figures.” She chuckles short. They walk into the rather spacious master bed, she grabs a large duffel from her closet and begins laying clothes out to be folded. Hanger after hanger of shirts and shorts, she just doesn't understand why they want her to leave her home. Sure they're older, but they aren't any relation to her and shouldn't be telling her what to do. “I’m going to question you guys anyway, why do you want me to go with you?” She turns to grab a backpack next to her dresser.

“We told you.”

“The real reason.” Continuing to throw clothes on her unmade bed.

“What, we can’t have you come back with us to hang out?”

“Then why not stay here until I get better?”

“Kevin usually gets a little anxious if we aren’t back in the bunker in a few days. Cas likes to speak in Enochian sometimes and it drives him crazy.” Sam says without making eye contact with his friend, ranger rolling each article of clothing to make sure they all fit in the suitcase. He knows that if he gives in to tell her, she'll think they're crazy and not want to go with them. And that's not what he wants to happen.

“You know what, fine, don’t tell me the truth.” Frustratedly packing the backpack with a notebook, laptop and a white knitted scarf that she shoved to the bottom. Then she realized one of the spirals broke from the notebook and dove back in for the scarf. Checking it over for any holes, and finding none. Braelyn stares quietly at the white material, pondering her decision they have made for her. Is it for her own good or are they suspecting her of something? “I didn’t mean to snap.” She sighs. “S’just, I have grown up with people lying and deceiving me all my life. So with you guys being so nonchalant about me coming with you or leaving so abruptly, it aggravates me.” She goes over to her small bookshelf for anything else to pack in to tide her over while she’s gone. Seeing a couple of novels that had gotten neglected over the years, obvious wear to the spine. The books in question were taken out carefully and placed inside her purse.

“It’s fine, I totally understand.” Sam says zipping up her duffel. “Are you going to need any help getting dressed?” Trying to keep the situation as calm as he can. Sam wants to keep her safe, he's lost too many friends to count and his heart doesn't think it could take another loss. He wants to steer her away from the 'why' but she's already become suspicious. Maybe bringing her along wasn't such a good idea.

“I should be ok, you go pack your things.” Braelyn says zipping the back pack.

“Alright.” He nods and walks out of her room, closing the door behind him.

When the latch mechanism clicked into place, followed by retreating footsteps, her anxiety spiked. Sam was lying to her, she just knew it, and she feels a betrayal of trust. They had been friends for how long now, and not once had Sam lied to her. Dean she understands, but Sam, she can't begin to comprehend what had happened. Her panic getting worse the longer she stands in place, staring blankly at the door he walked out of. The air becoming still and her lungs having difficulty taking in oxygen. The room starts to slightly tilt as she begins to hyperventilate, black encasing her outer vision. Her right hand reaching out for her bed which was too far in her opinion when she needed it. Finally making herself sit down and lowering her upper half so her head was between her knees.

Breathing in through her nose for ten beats and breathing out of her mouth for ten. The only thing that really seemed to calm her down when she got like this, silently thanking her shrink from years ago when she was diagnosed with anxiety. After a few more intakes of air, she leans back up, telling herself she'll be ok. Her eyes slowly open when she feels like she won't pass out on the floor.

Just as she was about to make an attempt to stand up to change out of her pajamas, her phone began vibrating on her end table where it was charging. Glaring at the device for three rings before unplugging it from the charger. Seeing _'Dickface'_ flashing on the screen and she sighs answering the phone right before it was sent to voicemail. "Hello?"

 _“Hello my sweetie! How are we feeling this morning?”_ Sabastien's voice rang on the other end.

“Fine and dandy.” She responds sarcastically. She didn't need to deal with him right this moment. She had to get dressed and meet the boys back downstairs. But figuring that he was on the line she should say something else. “Derik is dead, and so is Jenna, the Winchester's took care of them. Don't worry though, they'll be leaving soon, so you're furry ass is safe.”

 _“Good girl.”_ He says. _“You thinking about my ass? Mmm, now I can't wait for you to come to the mansion.”_ A taunting sultry comment bounced around her ears and she scowled at the remark.

“Yea, uh huh. I should get some rest, since that my best friend is dead.”

_“That wasn't my fault, if he hadn't of gotten caught then he wouldn't be dead now would he?"_

"Whatever, prick." She mutters. Knowing full well that his hearing is highly enhanced.

_"I'm going to ignore that comment, just this time. I'll see you later darling."_

The phone call ends, “No you won’t.” She says to no one. Tossing her phone to the bed, standing herself and going to her closet for an outfit to throw on.

A little while later she comes down, all her bags that she had packed held in her usable hand.

“Ready to go?” Dean asks her. She sets the bags on the couch to sling her purse over her head and picking them back up.

“I guess, since I have no choice.” She responds with no emotion.

“Oh don’t be like that.” Dean tisks at her, leading the three to the front door.

“Our friend Charlie said that she was on her way to the bat cave. You and her would get along really well.” Braelyn just rolls her eyes with a smile. Knowing very well that if she doesn’t go with them, Castiel won’t be able to heal her shoulder.

The bargaining chip they're holding against her, in all honesty, she could just stay home, but she would really like to not wear a sling anymore. “Fine, no more attitude, for at least an hour.”

“Fair enough.” Dean opens the door, holding it open for the two. “Want me to carry one of those?” Being the gentleman he was.

“No, I got it.” She responds passing the threshold. Stopping short and B-lining to the neighbors next to her. She knocks with the hand in the sling. Waiting patiently for a few moments as the boys walked off to the car. An elderly woman gingerly opens her door.

“Braelyn dear, everything alright?” Mrs. Wells asks with concern.

“Yes, Margot. I-” Braelyn starts but gets cut off.

“Oh sweetie, your face gives away all the pain. Can’t fool these old bones.” Her voice soft. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Thanks.” Braelyn looks anywhere but at Mrs. Wells. “I also want to thank you for calling the police.”

“It was no trouble dear. When I heard the fighting going on, I had the police already on the phone. Pesky paper walls.” Braelyn nods and clears her throat, gathering her words that she had wanted to tell her neighbor.

“Well, I’m going with my friends for a while, and I was wondering if you could bring in my mail until I get back?”

“Of course, anything for you.” She smiles. “Take all the time you need.”

“Thanks, Margot.” Braelyn returns her gaze with a smile. Dean comes over to them.

“Thought you said you were ready?” He chuckles.

“Sorry Dean.”

“Oh my.” Mrs. Wells sighed at the presence of the oldest brother. “Well aren’t you hot like apple pie.” She swooned, suddenly adorning a southern accent, losing her thick Wisconsin drawl.

“Ma’am.” Dean flashed her a grin, nodding as if he were in a western and took the bags from Braelyn, walking back to the car.

“I should get going.”

“Right, to be honest, he’s seem far better for you than that Sabastien fellow.” Braelyn had only briefly talked with her neighbor on a few occasions, never once mentioned the only other guy that comes into her home. Must be the paper walls her nosey neighbor had previously stated.

“You have no idea.” Braelyn chuckles. “See you later.” She waves as she walks away.

“Good bye dear, safe travels.” Braelyn makes her way over to the Impala and gets in the back seat, not bothering to buckle up.

“I think you have a new person to add to your fan club, Dean.” She looks back to the house, following it as they pull away from the curb. Looking forward as the trees began to blur.

“You talking about yourself?” He turns back to her and winks. She flushes and stares down at her feet.

“You wish.” She retorts quietly. Pulling a book out that she had stuffed in her purse. One of her favorites that left her on the edge of her seat. She turns to the side so that way she could put her feet up and rest the spine of the book between her thighs.

The boys were chatting it up in the front seat, trying to get their friend to join in. Eventually giving up when she gave an exaggerated sigh from being disturbed while trying to read. The voices stopped and the imagery coming back into focus as she continues. Hours and miles have passed by, the sun was setting and an endless scenery of farm lands surround the back road. Braelyn was too engrossed into the book to pay attention to where they were at this point.

She was at the very climactic ending when Dean announced to stopping off at some diner in Nebraska. Figuring she could use something to eat and the facilities. Braelyn set the book down, open on the seat, spines already ruined anyway, and got out following the boys into the establishment.

The lady at the counter kindly pointed her to where the bathrooms were, thanking her and trying not to waddle her way over. As she did her thing and was washing her hand. The lights begin to flicker in such a way that Braelyn knew who it was. She dried her hand and waited for him to appear. She leaned against the counter once he solidified.

“Jared, it’s been a while, what’s going on?” Braelyn asks her deceased friend who has been dead for well over 5 years.

“Sabastien knows you’re gone.”

“Oh, I figured. He expected me at the mansion today.” Not even phased.

“He showed up at your apartment and was constantly trying to call you. He wouldn’t shut up. I wish there was something I could do to stop him from hurting you, but he's got himself so marked up that I can't even touch him.” His pale face expressed the worry with his tone. Braelyn pulls her cell out, her eyes widened at the number of calls and voicemails he left behind.

“I left my phone on silent purposefully. He’s gotta be really pissed.” She halfheartedly chuckles.

“Hmph, pissed is an understatement. He pestered poor Mrs. Wells for your location. She fought him off the property, though. She kind of reminds me of my Nana, only, more American and not Italian.”

“Jared, focus! Is he planning on doing something?”

“He was in the middle of gathering a couple guys to track you down when I came to tell you.”

“Great.” Braelyn sighs and lets off the counter. “So close to leaving him. Keep me updated, but not around the boys. I’ll give him a call and see if I can do anything.”

“You got it Brae.” He nods and vanishes. Bringing up the hand still clutching her cell, she lets out a breath and calls him back. Holding the device a few inches from her ear just in case he starts yelling.

 _“So she finally decides to look at her phone!!”_ Flinching at his tone. _“Where the hell are you?”_ Punctuating his question with a snarl.

“O-out of town.” Building up confidence to say what's on her mind. Now that he's not directly in front of her to do any harm, she can speak freely.

_“You know my rules, and you broke two of them. Get back here now or I’ll force you back.”_

“Listen to me for once, I’m coping with the loss of a friend, leaving to clear my head was the only thing I really wanted to do. If you don’t like that, too fucking bad. I will be back in a week. I’m sure you can live without me murdering for you for that long.”

 _“So, you have the balls to talk to me like that when I’m not in your face, and I don’t care what_ **_you_ ** _need. Right now,_ **_I_ ** _need you back here with me!”_ There was some silence between the two of them, she was choking on the words she wanted to say. _"I can tell you're also lying to me. Tell me the truth."_ His tone demanding.

"O-ok.. I'm pretty sure they're suspicious about something, and I'm just going with them to make sure it's nothing. I’ll make a deal with you, if I’m not back in exactly a week, and I haven't reported on anything about you, you can send someone to come get me. I know you gave my scent to every person that works for you just in case.”

 _“This is nothing to negotiate_ _about."_ Another brief silence. _"What do you mean they're getting suspicious?"_

"It's probably nothing, but I have an inkling. But I'm not coming back now." Braelyn toughened her voice to make her decision final.

 _"If you don’t then I_ **_will_ ** _send my men to hunt and kill you. Right in front of your precious hunting buddies.”_ Braelyn falls silent, gulping at his words.

“But then you wouldn’t have a woman to degrade or do your dirty work for. And I’m sure it’ll take you years to find the perfect woman to do such things for you.”

_“I have one in mind already, but that's only if something happens to you. Make your choice now.”_

Braelyn needs to stand her ground now, she begins clenching her jaw, trying not to completely blow up at him. “Me and the boys are trained to kill any creature, you send all your men, we’ll just kill them. After all you should know, that first night you brought me into your hell of a life.” She hears him growl, and hisses an unintelligible response. “Do you agree to the arrangement?”

 _“Selfish bitch.”_ He mutters through the speaker. _“Fine. I’ll give you exactly a week. And don’t think of trying to go anywhere else, I’ll have eyes on you the entire time you’re with them.”_

“Understood.” She hangs up and growls. Walking over to a wall and resting her forehead on the probably dirty tile. She brings her only hand up by her face and reels back her right hand, punching the wall. “God fucking dammit, fuck my life!” Braelyn grits through clenched teeth. Feeling all kinds of emotions course through her veins. She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs and trash this bathroom. Maybe just cry herself till she becomes dehydrated in one of the stalls. Or break the mirror and end her life in this dingy lit room. The last option doesn’t sound that bad, until she remembers where half the scars on her body came from. It was no use.

Braelyn thought an almost honest lie would work, which did, but at what cost of being under constant surveillance. She let a tear straggle down her cheek until it blobbed on her nostril, allowing her hand to wipe it away from her sight. She didn't want to be shown as weak, especially in front of the boys. _'The boys.'_ She thought. Braelyn forgot completely with another anxiety induced panic, that she was with them, with Sabastien threatening her, it somehow slipped her mind.

When she stands up straight, she looks at her knuckles on her hand, which was shaking under the fluorescent lights, the index and ring knuckles were red and starting to swell and throb, while the middle broke skin and started to bleed. She goes back to the sink to clean it out just in case. Finally collecting herself before exiting the bathroom. Finding the boys at a booth near the entrance.

“You fall in?” Dean asks with a grin as Sam chuckles.

“Ha ha ha.” She smiles at them, shoving Sam further in the booth.

“Hey, can’t you do that to Dean?”

“Nope, plus with me on this side I won’t have to worry about you playing footsie with me.” Braelyn picks up the menu to scan it over. The waitress comes over and was about to speak.

“I wouldn’t've played footsie with you.”

“Just shut up and order your damn rabbit food.” Sam doesn’t retaliate, why bother fight in a public setting. They put in their order and wait patiently. Braelyn was feeling anxious, whether for Sabastien coming and finding her, even if he reluctantly agreed to her deal, or the boys being murdered if those guys felt like getting rid of them. She brings her right hand up from under the table and begins nibbling at her nails, spacing out at the table. Dean double takes his glance at her and takes her hand away from her face to look at her knuckle.

“Braelyn, what did you do? Looks like you punched a wall.” The skin was a bright red on the middle knuckle and trailing over the index and ring. The scrape was starting to scab a little but blood still pooled at the surface.

“N-nothing, just scraped my knuckle on the paper towel dispenser.” Quickly pulling her hand back under the table. Dean doesn’t question it further, shrugging, watching her cautiously. She can feel his eyes on her, takes a deep breath in and letting it out through her nose. Lifting her head to face him with the tiniest of smiles. “So, what’s the plan for the week?”

“Hanging out, watch movies, maybe get drunk, possibly hunt if something pops up.” Dean replies.

“Alright, not a thought through vacation.” She mutters and sips her water.

“Hey, there isn’t much to do at the bunker. Not our fault that it might be boring.”

“It’s not that, just it turns out to be one week long slumber party. Are we going to talk about boys, have pillow fights, braid Sam’s hair?” She chuckles.

“Wouldn’t be too hard.” Dean reaches across the table, letting Sam’s hair flow through his fingers. “It’s long enough.” Sam slaps his brother’s hand away as the two other people laugh while he places his hair behind his ears.

“I’m not a girl.” He mutters, continuing to gaze out the window.

“Well yea, if you’d just cut it you wouldn’t look like one.” Dean grins.

“Come on Sam, didn’t you like it when your flings played with it before falling asleep?” Braelyn becomes very bold and softly runs her fingers through the strands, barely touching his scalp. She blushes deep when he closes his eyes and blows out a breath. Retracting her hand immediately and avoids eye contact with either of them. She clears her throat and the food was brought and placed in front of each of them. “Your hair is really soft.”

“Is it?” Sam asks with a mouthful of food.

“Very.” She nods. Silence filled their table as they ate. Dean was looking at Braelyn suspiciously, like he can’t get a decent read on her. “Dean, if you keep that face up it’ll stick.”

“That’s a myth.” He responds and shovels more food in his mouth. They finish eating, with Dean having room for pie, paying for their meals and heading out to the car. “Damn, that was good eatin’!” Dean burps and gets in. “Even if it was a family diner.”

“You only enjoyed it because they had pie.” Sam says getting in next to him.

“That is true.” He starts the engine when Braelyn settles in the back, picking up her book to finish where she left off.

She was starting the sequel when she felt a familiar twinge in her shoulder. Nothing to concern her to stop reading or focus on it. But enough to alarm her that the pain will get worse if she doesn’t do something about it. In five minutes her focus shifted between the story and the pain. She sighs and sets her book down.

“How much further until we reach the bat cave?”

“Less than an hour.” Sam replies. “Why, you don’t need to pee again, do you?”

“No, I’m good. Just my shoulder.” Braelyn leans over to the seat of the bench, resting her bent arm on it. Carefully removing the sling. She stretches her arm out without moving her shoulder barely. Elbow cracking satisfyingly that makes her sigh. She slumps back and closes her eyes for a moment. Only her brain has other ideas. The road lulling her to sleep as the car sways and rolls over the asphalt.

Braelyn wakes with a sharp intake of breath, she rubs her eyes and tries to figure out why she could do that with her left hand. Then realizes that she never put the sling back on. Groggily she maneuvers the sling back on and yawns.

“Afternoon.” Dean spoke as the car made a jarring turn and entered some sort of tunnel.

“Where are we?” Her voice hoarse.

“Home.” Sam answers. There were bright lights in a room full of older vehicles at the end of the tunnel. Dean somehow gets the Impala into a spot, killing the engine.

“Home looks homely.” Braelyn says.

“Just wait till we get inside.” Dean says and they all get out of the car. The boys went to the trunk and carried bags while gesturing for Braelyn to follow them. Voices and laughter filled the empty lit hall.

“Once the vamp was beheaded, his body landed on a pile of whoopie cushions.” Charlie chuckles as she tells her tale to Kevin and Castiel. “One by one, being deflated.”

“You hunting without us?” Dean says and walks up to Charlie.

“It was a small vamp case, nothing I couldn’t handle.” She goes to hug Dean and Sam.

“Hey Charlie.” Sam says.

“Hey.” Then she notices the awkward person standing in the doorway to the war room. “Who’s the cutie?”

“That’s our friend Braelyn.” Sam says. “Don’t be shy, come on in.” Braelyn pushes her way in, smiling shyly to the others in the room.

“I’m a bit anti-social, so I apologize for my quietness.”

“That’s fine.” Charlie reassures her. “I’m that way sometimes.”

“C’mon, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.” Dean says guiding her to another hallway.

“They made me really nervous. Castiel looks intimidating.”

“He may look, but he’s not.” Dean opens a door and sets her bags on the bed. “He only looks that way because he’s still learning human facial expressions and mannerisms.”

“He’s been with you for quite a while now, right?”

“Yea, he’s a slow learner.” Dean chuckles. “Alright, this is where you’ll be staying. It’s no 4 star hotel, but it’ll do. Just don’t expect housekeeping to come in and leave a mint on your pillow.”

“You’re such a dork.” Braelyn chuckles and lightly smacks him on the chest. He continues to grin at her.

“Let’s head back to the others.”

“Sounds good.” Braelyn says, following him back to the group.

“There you guys are. Thought you two snuck off.” Sam says.

“No, was showing her where she will be sleeping. Why you jealous?” Sam clears his throat and crosses his arms in response.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Charlie says.

“You hush it, or I’ll ruin Game of Thrones for you.” Dean threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Charlie challenges him.

“I would, but I won’t.” Dean smirks. “Alright, another successful hunt, we’re still alive, why don’t we celebrate?” He asks everyone.

“Why are we celebrating?” Kevin asks.

“Because why not, for the little and simplest things, but you my friend, are sticking to water. No booze for you.”

“Dean, you drink on a daily, how is today gonna be any different?” Sam says. “And I’ve stated this previously, isn’t it like a vitamin for you?” His brother squints.

“Shut up.” Dean retorts and walks away.

“Well, while Master of Comebacks grabs the booze, everyone can get to know my long time friend, Braelyn. Braelyn, that’s Kevin, Charlie and Cas.” Pointing at each person in order of their seats. Facing to the library, Kevin sits on the left side, Castiel at the head of the table, and Charlie opposite of Kevin.

“Hello.” Castiel says with a nod.

“What’s up?” Charlie says with a quick wave of her hand.

“Hey.” Kevin says awkwardly. Braelyn just waves at everyone, not used to being in the spotlight like this. Not since she was in high school. After the greetings were exchanged, she freezes, suddenly becoming shy as if she isn’t a people person. She chews on her bottom lip and twirls a strand of her brown hair as she continues to feel their eyes on her.

“What’s wrong?” Sam asks, placing a hand on her upper back.

“I don’t know why I’m acting like this all of a sudden. I like talking to people.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Take a deep breath and sit down.” She nods.

“Sam, can you help me?” Dean shouts.

“Yea!” He responds heading towards the kitchen. When Braelyn tears her eyes away from the doorway Sam disappeared behind, looking at the trio patiently waiting for her to speak, she sat down and let out a shaky breath.

“As uh Sam mentioned, my name is Braelyn, born and raised in Wisconsin. My parents split when I was young. Lost my best friend when I was a sophomore, my love interest my junior year, and my surrogate mom my senior year. I traveled to Italy to find my love interests family and came back, attending Stanford and meeting Sam. Witnessed his apartment building drown in flames. Uh-” Braelyn was cut off.

“Wait, you never told me that.” Sam says setting down some glasses and two bottles of whiskey.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.” She tenderly places her hand in his. “When I saw you at Ellen’s, I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I’m sorry.” He squeezes her hand, a little too tightly at first, and meets her eyes for a moment. She smiles apologetically and rubs her thumb on the back of his hand.

“Is there anything else you aren’t telling me?” She stares at him for a while and shakes her head. There are a few things she’s hiding, but she isn’t going to tell him. “Alright, on that depressing note.” Kevin reaches for the Jack Daniels but is stopped.

“Aye aye aye! No, bad Kevin!” Dean says walking in with beer and snacks, two water bottles tucked in his arms.

“I’m the prophet of the lord, I need to cope with the things I’ve seen.”

“Yea, not after what happened last week, sorry. It’s either this or apple juice, that I bought for myse- I mean used for an experiment.” Dean corrects himself, darting his eyes everywhere with a suspicious look.

“Yea, and do you want to explain why I found crayons in the desk drawer over there?” Kevin grabs one of the waters as they were set on the table.

“Like I said, experiment.”

“Uh huh, says the coloring pages I found in your room the other day.” Sam says pouring everyone but Kevin a drink.

“You shut your trap!” Dean points at his brother while the others snicker around the table. “It helps me relax, ok. I get stressed sometimes..alright all the time.”

“That’s ok Mr. Macho Man.” Charlie says patting his upper arm.

“No judgment.” Braelyn adds. “I write to lower my stress levels.”

“You know me, video games relaxes me.”

“I’m stressed 24/7, mainly because Crowley’s in the dungeon.” Kevin says after sipping his water.

“Whoa whoa whoa. There’s a dungeon in the bat cave?” Charlie asks with a twinkle to her eyes.

“With chains and everything.” Sam says. “Makes interrogating so much easier.”

“Neato, you’ll have to show me sometime, I mean when you release the prisoner.” Sam gives her a look that tells her that won’t be happening soon. Dean and Sam finally take a seat after glasses were handed to the others. Everybody goes silent while they sip at their drinks. Braelyn stares at her glass she’s holding on her lap, not sure how to start a conversation. “Well, this is fun.” Charlie says. “It’s so tense in this room.”

“I don’t think any of us know how to pick something to talk about.” Dean says.

“We were in the process of learning about your friend.” Kevin adds.

“Right and I interrupted.” Sam says and turns towards the outsider. “Continue, please.”

She clears her throat as the eyes were back on her. “Uh, well I dropped out of college after a hunt went wrong. A year of rehab and I was able to fly back home. Took all my stuff from my mom’s place and moved to my states capitol. I met a guy, we were together for 3 years and decided to move a bit north. He died while we were on a case.” Braelyn stops, trailing her words as she feels the guilt resonating inside of her. “It was my fault.” She doesn’t meet the eyes of the listeners. “A year after that, I met up with tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum over there, while they were on a case.” The brother’s give her a soft smile.

“Sounds like an interesting life.” Charlie says.

“Oh, it was.” Braelyn chuckles.

“Y’know, I’ve been meanin’ to ask.” Dean starts. “Out of curiosity, how did you meet Sabastien?” Her face ticks at the mention of his name. It goes unnoticed, so she thought.

“While I was out looking for a job after Mat died.”

“Wait, so, your boyfriend died a year ago, and found a new one while job hunting?” Charlie asks.

“No, god no, I’m still mourning Mat, I’m even wearing one of his button ups.” She shows everyone when removing her jacket. “He-Sabstien’s just a friend.” Braelyn forced herself to say. “He’s not my type anyway.”

“Ooh, you have a type?” Charlie questions with the corners of her mouth pulling up into a smirk.

“Yes.” Braelyn blushes and b-line’s her eyes down to her lap.

“And what type would that be?” Wiggling her brows, her tone having a need to know behind her question.

“None’ya.” Subconsciously, her eyes move quickly over to Sam and back to the red head. Charlie could tell by how she's acting and the little tell Braelyn gave when she asked, hinted to what type of guy she's into. They both laugh as the boys are confused on how to interact with girl talk. “What about you, gotta type?”

“Cute, geeky girls, like yourself.”

“Thanks, but I’m not into girls like that.” Braelyn looks up and sees how interested Dean is on the subject. She gives him a look, he puts up his hands, leaning back in his chair.

“Alright, won’t go there.” Sipping from his glass.

The night continues as normal, everyone having a good time, drinking a bit too much. Putting names on Braelyn. She needed to loosen up, whiskey and beer were helping her do that. Braelyn was getting to the point of being drunk, but not quite there. She was giggling at nothing for 5 minutes straight, the others chuckling at her drunken bubbly nature. She had gotten out of her seat and stumbled her way over to Kevin, who only had water, her glass in her hand as the contents swish inside. She got behind his chair.

“Brae- aglllgh!” Kevin began to question her but she poured her drink into his mouth.

“Chug!” She slurs as Kevin flails his arms. As soon as she’s done, the poor prophet started to have a cough attack since he inhaled some of the liquid. “Yay! Now everyone’s had the alcohols!” She beams with her arms in the air, fumbling backward, immediately catching herself. Sam and Dean chuckle at her all while Castiel furrows his brows in concern.

“Kevin, are you alright?” He’s the only other sober one at the table.

“Yea *cough* m’fine.” Waving a hand at the angel.

“Jeez Brae. Reminds me of Stanford days.” Sam says working on his fourth beer.

“Oh no, we are not going there.” She giggles swaying a bit. “I was a complete fool back then.”

“Yea you were.” He grins wide leaning on the table with his elbows. Laughing while he was trying to speak.

“Don’t you dare!” Braelyn begs while bubbling out a laugh.

“You- uh. One time, Jess, Brae and I had attended a frat party to kick off that new school year. Things got crazy, and she got pretty hammered rather quickly for a freshman, said she needed to get some air. I told Jess that I was going to check on her, 5 minutes later I found her in the backyard.” Sam stopped to get his laughter under wraps. “She was trying to convince a tree to come inside and have a good time. She got mad and slashed her drink that she brought with her at it because it didn’t respond. I grabbed her and pulled her back to the house.” Sam tries to catch his breath. “It made me laugh so much harder when trying to tell Jess.”

“Oh my god, Brae!” Dean full belly laughs, leaning back in his chair some more.

“S’not that funny!” Braelyn stomps her foot like a child.

“Yea it is.” Sam leans back. “Apparently, one of the party goers told me in class the next day, that you came onto the tree, saying it looked rugged and handsome. Then proceeded to grab a branch like it had an arm, trying to lead it inside.” Everyone at the table begins laughing, the brother’s laughing harder.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any better.” Dean wipes his face.

“Why is my idiocy the only thing being laughed at?” She complains sitting back in her seat.

“Because you’re the only one acting like one.” Charlie says panting.

“So.” She pouts.

“Well, if you don’t want us to embarrass you any further, tell us some stories.” Dean says to Braelyn.

“Stories?” She quirks a brow. “About what?”

Dean shrugs, “Whatever.”

“I don’t really have any that I could tell right off the bat.” Braelyn scratches her face as she thinks.

“Any story would be fine if you’re comfortable sharing.” Charlie says.

“I mean, my stories are pretty much sad, they’ll completely change the mood of the room.”

“They can’t be that bad.” Dean says. Braelyn gives him the ‘trust me’ look which registers with the group.

“Look, I don’t need to spill everything about me to all yous. If I say no, then that’s that.” Braelyn pours herself another glass of whiskey and chugs about half.

The silence was deafening. Sure they didn’t mean to keep bugging for some kind of conversation, but it was all about her they were asking. She wanted to keep things down to herself, even if that meant the happy stories.

“Sorry.” Sam mutters out.

She sighs and slumps very un lady-like in the chair. “It’s fine. S’just, all my happiest memories have ended in tragedy, and I don’t want to relive them.” Braelyn finishes off her drink, leaving the glass on the table. “My life, not in comparison or upstaging you boys, has been a downhill, spiraling roller coaster. There’s no escape, I can’t breathe half the time, and I’m afraid when I see the next loop approaching.” Braelyn is transfixed to the map on the table, unable to pull herself out. She can’t stop the emotions from flowing through her mind, in the drunken state that she’s in, the emotions trigger her physically, tears forming in her eyes. She pinches the inside of her thigh to put them away. She can’t be shown as weak in front of them. Braelyn was a tough bitch, and didn’t need the salty water to run down her face. “Mat was one of the best things to come into my shit hole of a life. I thought I could break out of the cage I locked myself into. For a while I saw a light beaming through the clouds and bars. There was hope for me. Then, just as I was unlocking the door, lightening struck melding the metal together as the love of my life lay dead in my arms.” She sniffles and shudders a breath.

Dean wanted to put a stop to this, setting down his half empty glass. “Brae, don’t, if you don’t want to you don’t have to.”

“I’m drunk, and I can’t stop.” Her mouth was running faster than her mind. It was trying effortlessly to catch up and stop her before she says something that doesn’t need to be said. But it’s already too late when her brain finally caught up. “Every person I’ve ever loved, met the same end because of me. I held my best friend as she drew her last breath. Pleading with my love interest to stay with me as blood pooled around. Tightly holding my deceased surrogate mother’s hand, begging her to not leave me alone. Listening to my father’s heart monitor fluctuate as he apologized for every mistake he made, flat lining over the phone. And my dog,” she chuckles halfheartedly, not caring what emotions are at this point. “seeking for my help as her insides litter the ground.” Wiping her face with her good hand. _‘God dammit tears!’_ She doesn’t meet the gazes of the misfits, suddenly not happy with how the night turned out. Her chest rising and falling harshly as she tries to get her sentiments under control. She could over hear the group talking amongst themselves. “Excuse me.” She whispers, knowing they won’t hear her as she ran to the room she was staying in. Slamming her back against the door, sliding to the ground as she bawls into her knees. Silent sobs wrecking her whole body as she recounts each loved ones death. Flashing in her mind like snapshots. She flinches when each image changes, fearing they’ll return to torment her. Although, they already have.

They get faster and faster, the sounds of their screams fading in all together, like a symphony. Her hand immediately flying into her hair as she digs her nails into her scalp. She bangs her head a couple times on the door to somehow get rid of the images, but only finding more of them. They were multiplying and becoming distorted. Her drunk mind was really having fun with her tonight wasn’t it?

Over the screams of her demons, there were other voices as well. Voices she recognized, but she couldn’t pull out from the black hole she dropped herself into. _‘Braelyn?!’_ The sound of her name is faintly heard but gets ignored. There was only one sure fire way to stop the insanity. It has worked on several occasions. She stands, walking over to the bed and pulls out her pocket knife from one of her bags. Swiftly opening the blade, holding the handle in her mouth as she rolls up her sleeve. An accumulative amount of deep, pink scars criss and cross all over her under forearm. She was struggling to see with the tears blocking her vision. That’s when the door was being pounded at. _‘Go away!’_ Braelyn shouted in her head. She didn’t answer in real time, which got more voices of her name and harsh pounding on the wood. Sam bursts through the door, the group following behind as she was about to grab the knife from her mouth.

“Braelyn, no!!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter 5 will take a lot longer than I wanted it to. I was gonna work on it but the writing platform I was using said "error importing file; blah blah blah", so basically it's corrupted. I tried opening in different word platforms, it either came up blank or symbols, tried restoring the file have it saved in, and nothing. 2 whole pages, gone, I should have saved it to a different platform, but I didn't. Now I know not to use that one anymore. So it'll be quite a while until I can stop being frustrated over having to rewrite it all. Thanks all. ~Meg

“No! Stop! Give that back!” Braelyn screams at Sam as he took the knife out of her mouth. Tears continuously flowing down her face, The blade is closed and handed to Dean. Sam wraps his arms over her shoulders, tightly, a hand going to the back of her head, comforting her like he would his brother. Calming her with soft words while she sobs loudly and beats against his back. Realizing that he won’t be letting go any time soon, she accepts the embrace, shaking in his arms. “Why?” Braelyn balls a fist into the back of Sam’s shirt. “Why can’t I just be happy?” She whispers. Sam doesn’t respond, he doesn’t know how. Looking to his brother for something, but only got a sorrowful stare.  
After a while, she calmed down, dozing from the over exertion and alcohol while Sam still holds her. Sam motions for Dean to move the bags to the floor. Dean also pulls the covers back so Sam can lay her down. Braelyn fell asleep the moment she felt the bed. Sam takes her boots off, putting a pillow under her sling and covers her up.

“Cas, will you keep an eye on her?” He asks the angel.

“Of course.” He nods and sits in a chair opposite the bed. Braelyn’s breathing is quiet yet normal as she sleeps. The angel doing his duty and watching over her. Sam walks into the hallway, Dean shutting the door behind them.

“Ok, for as long as I’ve known her, I never thought she’d go and do something like that.” He tells the others. Dean stares back towards the door then down to the knife in his right hand.

“People can change, Sam.” Charlie says. “She did mention how much pain she was in.”

“Yea.” Sam sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Who knows what might have happened if I hadn’t’ve followed her.”

“You did the right thing, Sam.” Kevin lays a hand on his upper arm.

“I sure hope so.” Sam says. Charlie and Kevin walk away to clean up the table in the war room. “No more alcohol for her. Don’t need to have another episode like tonight.”

“I’m going to hide the supply from her then.” Dean walks away. Obviously wanting to help his friend in anyway he can. Starting with not triggering any painful memories, which includes alcohol. Sam wipes his hands over his face, opening Braelyn’s bedroom once more to speak with the angel protecting the innocent.

“She’s still out, mumbling stuff here and there.” Castiel gracefully stands from his chair.

“I need you to stay with her for the rest of the night, just in case.” Sam doesn’t tear his eyes away from Braelyn’s sleeping form.

“Understood.” Castiel nods.

“Could you do me a favor for me, well, for her actually?”

“Anything.”

“Could you heal her shoulder, please? I would hate to see her suffer like this if she can’t use her arm.” Braelyn whimpers when Sam moves hair from her face.

“Of course.” He strides over to the bed, hovering his hand over her shoulder. When the light diminished, they carefully removed the sling from her body. Sam smiles sadly at her, nodding to Castiel before leaving the room again. Castiel, the ever curious angel, could try to help this friend of a friend. He continues to stare down at her, the air still, filled with voices from down the empty hall. Castiel figures no one else is going to be coming back in and he wants to help this girl, so he takes a deep breath and he places his hand on her forehead, jumping into her mind.

Flashes. Pausing every so often on something that catches his attention.

“Come on, Brae. You’re my little talisman!” A man flirtatiously said near her ear. He was standing behind her, hands on her shoulders. Whimpers could be heard in the far depths of the dark alley.

“Don’t call-" Braelyn was about to correct the man on the use of her nickname, but suddenly her body shook and her eyes shifting from innocent and scared to murderous.

“Go get’em.” He backs up in the shadows after handing Braelyn a knife.

“Yes, sir.”

Castiel cocks his head to the side, still inside her mind, flinching when he heard the scream of the person and the sinister smile of the unknown man. He keeps sifting though, still finding the same man over and over.

“Braelyn, dear.” The man called for her. Braelyn came walking into the room, shying away from the entrance. “Got a new list for you.” He sing-songs.

“..no more..” She mutters, her eyes already lifeless. “..I can’t.. don’t make me..please... I just want to go home..” Tears streaming down her red and slightly sunken in cheeks.

“Aww, that’s too bad.” The man sarcastically sympathizes. “Take this paper and meet Gavon out back. If you don’t come back bloody, consider yourself on lock down.”

“Y-yes, Sabastien.” She stumbled her way over and hesitantly grabbing the sheet from his hand.

Castiel continues to go through every memory with this man, he knows for sure that he is no good, can feel it in his aura. He sure was right when a trail of bodies is left behind Braelyn, the mysterious man known as Sabastien smugly smiling at her.

When he pulls back out, Braelyn was thrashing on the bed, on the edge of a scream. Castiel calmly took her out of her nightmare, replacing it with happier memories. He watches as her breathing slows, flipping herself onto stomach and burrowing her face into the pillow on a sigh. Castiel sat back in the chair, rubbing his chin. “This is going to be a long night.”

 

 

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“She’ll be fine in the morning, Sam.” Dean says placing whiskey, bourbon, and rum into a box to hide away.

“I know, it’s just what she said while she bawled on my chest.” Sam looks to the kitchen table. “I just feel like there should be something more I could do to help her. She’s one of my best friends for pete’s sake.”

“I hear ya.” Dean says. “But there’s nothing we can do about it right now.” He stuck the box on the shelving unit by the sink. “So, for now, we deal with the situation at hand and go from there.”

“Yea.” Sam lets out a harsh breath through his nose. “I’m going to bed.” He announces leaving his brother in the kitchen.

“Night.” Dean calls after him.

The eldest leans against the metal island, beer in his hand, Charlie and Kevin had already headed to their rooms. So that left Dean, the only one not to go to bed. His mind kept tracing back the events that took place. What an insane spiral this night took. He thought about each word that spewed from her mouth, every person she mentioned had so much more meaning to her than the boys do. Of course she doesn’t know the boys that well, as she doesn’t keep in touch with them. Not like she used to, anyway. When he thinks about it, Braelyn seems a little more reserved, more to herself, like if she says the wrong thing something horrible might happen to her. She wasn’t like this the last time they ran into her. She was with that guy, when she introduced him, Dean had felt slightly jealous. Even then, he was with Lisa, there was something nagging at him how he felt about Braelyn. He never thought he could have feelings for anyone like he had for Lisa, but every time he saw Braelyn, his heart beat like the drums; banging against his chest, wanting to wrap her with every ounce of his being. Now his heart pounds with worry.

When he says she’s more reserved, he’s paid attention to every detail about her. How she acts around other people, what her tone is when she speaks, to how she walks. Every small little thing he noticed, is different now. He needs to figure out what’s going on with her.

He polishes off his beer and places it in the sink with the rest of them from earlier. They’ll try to help her out in anyway tomorrow. For now, sleep was calling to him from the vents, a simple lullaby that his mind was making up. Dean strides down the bare, echoing hallway to his bedroom; stripping out of his clothes and pulling on some sweat pants. ‘Hopefully Braelyn will feel better tomorrow.’. He thinks to himself while pulling the blanket back and crawling in. As he lay his head down, rolling onto his stomach, something was sticking to his brain, but he just couldn’t place it. He told himself not to worry about it now and fell asleep.

 

 

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Braelyn didn’t dream about much, that she could remember at least. A blank fills up a portion of her night. When she sits up, a wave of nausea and a pounding in her head over came her. Pausing any movement she could make to quell the queasy feeling. Her head thrumming terribly, making the room look like it’s spinning. Hands cover her eyes to stop the motion.

“Fuck man.” Braelyn slurs with sleep.

“How are you feeling?” A mysterious voice asked in the lonely lamp lit bedroom. She removes her hands, squinting in Castiel’s direction. He’s holding a glass with a fizzy look to it. Carbonation bubbles stick to the inner part, the others float and pop when they reach the surface. “Dean told me to give this to you when you awoke.”

“I’m feeling ok, just feel like vomiting.” She chuckles lightly, taking the glass from the angel when he sat next to her. Pouring in small amounts to sip, so not to upset her stomach further. There was a huge thickness in the silence of the space. A sense of unknowing and awkwardness fills Braelyn’s mind. She continues to sip from the glass, thinking of anything to conjure into a conversation. “I’m sorry Castiel.” Her thumb running over the rim of the glass. The apology as quiet as the air.

“I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.” He responds.

“Still,” sighing out of her nose, “I feel bad for what I did last night. At the same time, I’m embarrassed for what you almost saw.” Braelyn takes a beat to continue gathering her thoughts. “Sam was pressuring me into opening myself up to you guys, I guess something snapped and that’s what fell outta my mouth.”

“Would any of what happened last night have anything to do with Sabastien?” Castiel calmly asks.

Her eyes widen instantly at the mention of that bastards name. She doesn’t move, slightly shaking, gripping tighter onto the glass in her hands. Braelyn’s heart beats harder behind its prison, she only hopes the seraph can’t hear it. A lot of possibilities are running through her mind. She wants to know how he found out. Did she talk in her sleep? Did he go through her phone?

The reality of the situation eats at her, if she asks him how he knew, then he’ll have follow up questions. But if she denies it, will he be able to tell she’s lying? Castiel’s an angel, she’s pretty sure he’d be able to tell. Braelyn seems to be stalling her answer by being stuck inside her head. She evens her breathing, blinking to wet her dry eyes. Taking a larger sip from the glass before speaking, she had made up her mind.

“How do.. you know?” She turns her head slowly to the blue eyed celestial being. Her voice soft with a harsh 'tell me now’ tone.

“I saw it in your mind. I wanted to see if I could help you, so I entered your memories, searching for anything, and came across the same man.”

“Don’t you have to ask for permission first, before, sifting through someone’s memories?”

“Not all the time.” Braelyn’s eyes widen again, jaw dropping open in disbelief. 'So that’s how he found out.’ She thought. 'Should have figured.’ “Was that not okay?”

“Of course that was not ok!” Braelyn raises her voice a little, wincing when her head pounded. “You can’t do that to someone without asking, memories are precious and private. Our minds are for storing everything, especially secrets.”

“I’m sorry, Braelyn. I only wanted to help.”

“I know.” She sighs. “If you want to help me right now, you can’t tell the boys about it.”

“Why, I think the boys would be of great help for you as well.” Castiel squints and tilts his head. She sighs, again, long out of her nose.

“This is something I have to deal with alone. If I wanted their help, I would have called them.” Braelyn finishes off the seltzer water in one gulp. “Promise me you won’t say a word to them.” Her gaze stern.

“I promise.” He hesitated for a moment before he answered.

“Pinky swear?” She hold out her left hand with her pinky stinking out.

“I don’t understand-”

“Do what I’m doing.” She interrupts him. He scrunches his already confused expression, but brings his right hand up. She links their pinkies together for a few seconds, and letting him go. “There.” She huffs with a small smile. “A promise has been made, if you break it, you give me no choice but to cut your pinky off.” Castiel looks at her worriedly. “I’m kidding about the last part.” His shoulders slump with a smile. Nodding to her and standing, striding towards the door.

“I’m sure you want to get ready for the day, I’ll just leave you be.” Castiel opens the door, stepping into the hall and shutting it behind him.

Braelyn’s left alone and that’s when she sees her sling on the dresser across from her. Lifting her left arms and finding no pain, the angel must have healed her. She should at least feel grateful for him doing that. Slowly standing from the bed, looking around the room for her bag and finding it on the only other chair in the room. She digs through it to find comfortable clothes to change into.

When she peels her shirt off, the other her in the mirror reflects everything. Her porcelain fair complexion revealing the depths of her cheeks and nearly purple dark under eyes. Some pimple scars from popping then when she shouldn’t have. Pink divots were noticeable once she reached her chest and shoulders, swiping all the way down her arms and to her thighs and everything in between. Not wanting to stare at herself any longer, she pulls over the tank top and drags her sweatpants over her legs. A zip-up hoodie was the last article to put on before deeming herself ready. Carefully ambling out of the room to find her friends.

Braelyn followed the voices that traveled down the hall into the library.

“She’s awake.” Castiel said.

“She’s probably hung over.” Dean replies. Braelyn’s social anxiety spikes, just hearing them talk about her, especially since she’s not in the room, makes her heart flutter with nerves. She doesn’t want to know what else they say behind her back. Stepping into the war room with her arms crossed, stopping just at the head of the table. “Or sleeping more. That girl is a mess, I care about her, but damn.” Kevin was off at another table with the tablet, he had been listening in here and there. He tore his eyes away from the rock with chicken scratch to look at Dean when he heard what he said. Kevin notices Braelyn standing in place, watching them.

“Uh, guys.” Kevin calls to them. They turn their attention to the prophet, who pointed behind them. One by one, their heads whipped towards the map table.

“H-hey Brae.” Sam clears his throat nervously.

“Brae, sleep well?” Dean asks with a feared tone to the question. Castiel doesn’t say anything, he knew she would be coming out of her room soon. She stamps down her anxiety and walks up the steps and sits at the table by Kevin. Braelyn doesn’t quite understand if she should feel upset or mad. Dean basically insulted her, that alone would piss her off. But because of her hangover, she stays quiet.

“Asshole.” Sam mutters smacking his brother in the back of his head.

“Ow!” He reacts halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his skill. She chuckles shortly.

“Braelyn, I-”

“I know.” She interrupts softly. “I am a mess, it’s nothing I don’t already know, Sam.” Smiling shyly, hiding her upset eyes behind her bangs while she stares at the table.

“Dean still shouldn’t have said it.” Sam tries apologizing for Dean.

“It’s fine, Sam.” Meeting his gaze finally. She’s heard so much worse come out of other peoples mouths, it’s nothing new. But there is that little sting that it came from someone she cares deeply about, it hurts more but is quickly pushed away and she starts talking about something else. Out of everyone here, there was one person that wasn’t accounted for. “So, where’s Charlie?” Her arms still crossed where she rests in the chair next to Kevin.

“Hunting.” Dean gave her a short answer. “She’ll be back in a few days.” Braelyn nods forcing herself to look at Dean. She sees the small glint in his eyes that tells her he’s sorry. Softening her posture, she can’t be upset at him for something she already knows. “Are you hungry at all? We got pizza in the fridge you can heat up.”

“I’ll take it cold.” She smiles sweetly to the older brother. “Please!” He returns the smile, shaking his head and retracing to the kitchen. Sam and Castiel stand closer to the table, Sam worrying his bottom lip.

“How are you feeling?” He leans on the table, scanning her face.

“I have a headache but I’ll live.” Dean comes back into the room carrying a plate with a few slices of pizza. “Ah, you’re my knight.” Taking the plate and a slice simultaneously. “Thank you.” She mumbles with a mouthful. Braelyn peeks at Kevin’s watch to see the time. “Wow.” Swallowing what’s in her mouth. “After one, I must have been out.”

“Well you had a rough night.” Dean says. “Of course, you were out.”

“I’m also glad that my shoulder got healed.” Braelyn says. “Thank you, Castiel.”

“You are welcome.” He responds with a smile and a nod of his head.

“So,” Braelyn sets down the plate after finishing the first slice, “since this is all healed up, you gonna keep your end of the bargain, Dean?” She challenges him with a cocked brow. Sam looks between the two, obviously confused to what she means.

“Brae, you’re hung over, and I thought you were joking when you said that.” He chuckles.

“What, are you afraid you’ll lose to a girl?” Braelyn teases with her tongue caught between her teeth.

“No, what, pfft.” She continues to stare at him. “Look, I just don’t think you’re well enough to spar.”

“It’s called wrestling for one, and two, I am to well enough for this.” She stands up from the chair, placing her hands on her hips.

Dean stares at her, unsure if he should agree to do with with her. There isn’t any place in the bunker they could do this comfortably. The floors are all hard concrete, no padding, bruises likely to form.

“There’s no way we’re going to do this.” Dean strongly tells her. “But I will say, I would definitely beat you.”

“Better watch your back Winchester.” Braelyn warns with a tease as she sits back down. The throbbing still emanating within her skull. Braelyn continues to eat to distract herself. “Got any head drugs?”

“Demanding aren’t we?” Dean says. Braelyn jerks a bit in her chair as her phone began to vibrate in her pant pocket. Dean had walked away again as Braelyn pulled out her device. She’s a little confused as to why Jack is calling her.

“Hello?” She answers.

“Braelyn! Thank Christ!” An unknown females voice was on the other line.

“Celeste?”

“Yea, hi, I need you to bail me out!”

“What? Why?” Braelyn gets up and walks to the kitchen, leaving the boys utterly confused.

“For reasons that I’m not going to mention, look I only got a minute left, can you bail me out or no?” Celeste asks frantically.

“Only if you tell me why you’re in jail.”

“*sighs long* Soliciting drugs to twelve year olds.” She mutters into the receiver.

“You what?!” Braelyn screams. The boys looked towards the entrance, majorly concerned.


End file.
